


Mr. Skywalker

by TheJediCode



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Babysitter, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkwardness, Child Han Solo, Child Leia, Child Luke Skywalker, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Lawyer Anakin, Reader-Insert, Skywalker Twins, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 12:07:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 38,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8713231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheJediCode/pseuds/TheJediCode
Summary: Your employer, Mr. Skywalker, is a lawyer and partner at the Kenobi-Skywalker law firm, as well as a single father.  You babysit his children, Leia and Luke, while he is at work.  The twins can be a handful, but you love them anyway, and Mr. Skywalker insists that you're practically part of the family.  While you don't quite feel like a Skywalker, you wouldn't mind spending a little more time with the head of the household.(Due to popular demand, this story contains some smut.  It is only a very small part of the fic, and it is purposefully written in a way that allows it to be skipped over without missing out on plot points.  The beginning and end of anything smutty is marked with "XXX" in bold underlined italics for your convenience.)





	1. A Handful and a Half

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not entirely sure about the direction I want this to go, so if you guys have any suggestions, I'm open to hearing them. I just had this chapter in my head and had to type it out before I forgot it. It isn't enough to stand alone, so it will have multiple chapters.

“Luke! Leia!  No running in the house!” you yelled for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

These kids were going to be the death of you. You had been working as a babysitter for quite some time, but you had never met any children quite like these two.  Even the deviously mischievous little boy named Boba you had taken care of a few years before was no match for the type of destruction the twins could cause.  On their own, neither Luke nor Leia was particularly troublesome, but when they were together, they left a trail of mayhem in their wake. 

Part of the problem was that they encouraged each other.  The bad ideas they would never have followed through with individually were almost guaranteed to be carried out when one of them voiced it aloud.  One particularly memorable time, Luke had the bright idea to try and hit a baseball while blindfolded.  Leia had agreed wholeheartedly that it was a brilliant plan.  Five minutes later, Luke had a black eye, and you had a one nasty bruise.  The second you realized that they had sneaked off into the yard, you rushed outside to stop them before anyone could get hurt.  As you attempted to bring their activities to a halt, Luke blindly swung his bat directly into your thigh.  Seconds later, the ball Leia threw nailed him right in the face.  You had to admit, she had a killer pitch for a four-year-old.

Luckily, their father was understanding when you explained Luke’s injury.  You had been worried about getting fired for not watching them closely enough.  He knew his children well enough to know that nothing could stop them one they put their minds to something and thanked you for doing your best. From what you could tell, he was a good man, and you had a great deal of respect for him.

It had been awhile since your last babysitting job.  It was your only source of personal funds throughout high school, and it had been a supplement to the income from your student work job on campus while you attended the local university.  Since you had graduated with your degree, though, you had taken a job at a retail store.  When a friend of your mother’s mentioned the opportunity for a potential job, you were more than willing to earn a little bit of money on the side doing something other than folding clothes.

Your mother’s friend, Dr. Qui-Gon Jinn, a professor in the law department at the college you attended, had been the one who brought up the job.  One of his former students, with whom he maintained a friendship even after their academic paths diverged, had been looking for someone who could take care of his kids while he was at work.  They were enrolled in preschool during the day, but he needed someone to pick them up after school and watch them until he could get home.  Dr. Jinn passed along your contact information, assuring you that you would love the Skywalker family.

When you met the twins for the first time, they seemed like perfect little angels.  Each one of them was unbearably adorable, but together their combined cuteness was overwhelming.  It wasn’t until you had really gotten to spend some time with them that you learned exactly how rambunctious they could be.  You quickly learned that Leia caused all kinds of trouble that she blamed on her brother, and Luke was prone to whining and could be a bit of a tattle-tale. 

You thought that it must have been hard for Mr. Skywalker to raise two children on his own.  You were only with the twins for a few hours a day, and even that was a challenge.  He spent a considerably greater amount of time chasing them around the house and cleaning up their messes.  It was one of him versus two of them.  You couldn’t even imagine what weekends at the Skywalker house looked like.

You were brought back to the present by the sound of a little voice calling out to you from across the living room. 

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)! Leia hit me!” A tiny blond boy ran up to you, rubbing his cheek with a marker-stained hand.  Sure enough, a red mark in the shape of a little hand was visible on the side of his face.

“Did not,” scoffed his sister, an equally small girl with long dark braids.  You always wondered if Mr. Skywalker was the one who fixed her hair in the morning.

“Leia, we don’t hit,” you reprimanded her, “and we don’t lie either.  Your dad is going to hear about this when he gets home. Now, apologize to your brother.”

“Sorry, Luke,” she grumbled, clearly sorrier about having to apologize than she was about smacking him on the face.

“It’s okay, Leia,” he accepted her apology and hugged her.  “I still love you.”

It was heart melting moments like these that made your job worthwhile.  Sometimes those two were too cute for their own good.

“(Y/N), when will Daddy be home?” Leia asked you, crawling into your lap. 

“Well…” You shifted in the armchair in which you were seated to peer at the clock on the fireplace mantle.  Like every other piece of furniture in the Skywalker house, it looked like it was plucked directly from the pages of a magazine. “It’s a little after 5 o’clock, and that’s when your daddy gets done at work.  He should be home any minute now. While we’re waiting for him, let’s get all of this marker cleaned off of you guys.”

Both of the twins were covered with the aftermath of their impromptu arts and crafts session.  You had noticed earlier that Luke’s hands were looking extra colorful, but on closer examination, you saw that the area above his upper lip was equally smudged with ink from wiping his nose with his hands.  Leia had pushed up the sleeves of her sweater and drawn little hearts all over her arms.  You knew their father would appreciate it at bath time if the majority of their excess mess was cleaned up, so you scrubbed the remnants of their creative streak off of their skin.  Just as you had gotten the last of the marker to come off of Luke’s nose, you heard the front door opening.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Leia jumped up and ran to greet her father, and Luke ran right behind her. 

When you caught up with them, Mr. Skywalker had pulled off his scarf and was beginning to unbutton his heavy coat.   It was the beginning of winter, and a cold front had recently swept through the area, bringing with it light snow flurries, made evident by the white flakes that stood out in stark contrast against the black wool of your employer’s coat and began to melt in his blondish-brown hair.  The ground hadn’t frozen enough yet for the snow to stick, so you had denied the twins’ requests to play outside.  After you explained to them that they wouldn’t be able to make a snowman out of the wet slush in the yard, they happily resigned to drawing picture indoors.

“How were they today?” Mr. Skywalker inquired when he saw you, struggling to undo the buttons of his coat with just his left hand while Leia tugged on his right arm, eager to show him the picture she had drawn.  He stopped and directed his attention to her.  “Leia, don’t pull on that.”

“I think Leia might be able to give you some insight into what happened today.”

He shrugged his coat off and hung it on a hook by the door before looking pointedly at his daughter.  “What did you do this time, Leia?”

“Nothing, Daddy, I promise!”  His frown was all it took to expose the truth.  “Fine, I hit Luke.  He started it, though.  He wouldn’t give me his red marker.”

“Did you have a red marker?” he asked.

“Yeah, but he had the _good_ one.”

“That’s no reason to hit him.  It’s important to share, but sometimes you have to learn to be happy with what you already have.  Are you okay, Luke?”

“Uh-huh.” The boy smiled.  “It only hurt a little when it happened, and now it doesn’t hurt any at all.”

Mr. Skywalker crouched down to inspect his son’s latest injury.  He frowned a bit and nodded once before declaring that no serious damage had been done.  Then the twins went to grab the pictures they had drawn to show their father, a task that took quite some time because the papers had been strewn all over the house as they ran about throughout the afternoon.  This left you alone in the entryway with your employer.

“I’m sorry again about the way they behave sometimes,” he apologized, pulling off his gloves and shoving them in the pockets of his hanging coat, finally able to remove them now that Leia wasn’t grabbing at his arm.  You noticed that he used his teeth to pull off the left one.  You had suspected for some time that something was wrong with his right hand but had never asked about it, so as not to be rude.  It seemed unusually stiff, but you weren’t entirely sure if it was a prosthetic limb or if his arm was just paralyzed from some type of injury.  “It’s hard for me to keep them in line on my own.  My wife was always better at discipline that I am.  She was so fair, but I’m always too harsh or too lenient with any kind of punishment.  I guess I just haven’t found that happy medium yet.”

“They really aren’t misbehaved, Mr. Skywalker,” you assured him.  “The main challenge with them is that they seem to feed off each other’s energy.  Individually, they wouldn’t be half the handful they are together. Besides, you're obviously doing your best.  It isn’t easy for a single father to raise two children.”

“I guess that’s true,” he admitted.  “And I’ve told you a hundred times that you don’t have to call me Mr. Skywalker.  It makes me feel old, and I’m barely over thirty.”

“Sorry, Mr. Sky- Anakin.” You corrected yourself.  “It’s just that, in the past, I’ve addressed my employers more professionally.”

“Nonsense, (Y/N)!  You’re practically part of the family.  At least, Luke and Leia seem to think so.”

As if on cue, the twins came rushing back into the room.

“Daddy, looked what I drawed for you!” Luke squealed, waving around several pieces of paper.  He held one of them out to his father.  “Look at this one first.”

Anakin Skywalker took the artwork from his son and admired it appreciatively.  “Wow!  Did you draw this spaceship all by yourself? It’s amazing!”

“Well, (Y/N) helped me a little.  She found a picture of one on her phone for me to look at so I could draw it,” the little boy explained, basking in his father’s praise.

“Now look at mine, Daddy!” Leia thrust out the self-portrait she had spent the majority of the afternoon working on.  He examined it as if he were a purveyor of fine art in a gallery deciding whether or not a piece would fit in with his collection.

“Magnifique!” he proclaimed, bringing an enormous grin to his daughter’s face. “By my appraisal, it’s worth a billion dollars at least – possibly priceless.  How did you ever manage to get your hands on such a valuable work of art?”

“I made it, Daddy,” she stated plainly, not impressed by his overdramatic show of delight.  “I even wrote my name at the bottom because (Y/N) said that’s what real artists do when they get done with a picture.”

“That’s great!” As Leia explained the entire process behind the creation of her drawing, he smiled up at you and mouthed a silent _thank you_ as you grabbed your coat and keys.

“See you tomorrow, kids,” you told the twins, pulling them both into a quick hug.  “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow too, Mr. Skywa- Anakin.”

“I guess you will.”


	2. Snowstorm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a winter wonderland outside, and the twins can't wait to play in the snow. A search for their winter wear uncovers some relics of Mr. Skywalker's past. Meanwhile, the weather outside is taking a turn for the worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is going to have so many feels by the time I'm done with it. I apologize in advance for that.
> 
> Since it's already winter in this story, should I do a Christmas chapter? What do you guys think? I'll be done with finals in a couple of days, and I'll have a lot of time to work on my fics, so feel free to let me know about what you'd like to see.

The snow continued to fall for several days, coating the ground with white icy crystals that glinted and glittered in the sunlight.  It was as if the whole world had turned white, and it was a beautiful sight to behold.  It was a winter wonderland, and the perfectly packed snow of the back lawn of the Skywalker house was still impeccably smooth, still untouched by the likes of man.  As you stood at the glass sliding door looking out, the twins standing beside you in their winter coats, you knew that was about to change.

You checked their clothes one last time before going out, making sure they were properly dressed for the elements.  Luke and Leia were both sporting snow pants and puffy insulated coats, zipped up to the chin.  Underneath their snow boots, they each wore two pairs of socks, so their feet wouldn’t get cold.  They looked like little marshmallows with their tiny bodies dressed up in all those big layers. 

“Do you have your mittens and scarves?” you asked them, unable to remember if you had slipped gloves into the kids’ coat pockets before bundling them up.  You checked, and discovered the pockets to be empty.  “Darn, do you guys have any idea where they might be?”

“I don’t think Daddy got them out yet,” Leia told you.  Great, they were packed away somewhere.

“Are they in the basement?”

“No, he keeps our extra clothes in boxes in his closet,” she explained.  “That way he can get them out if we need them.”

You couldn’t send the kids outside without anything to keep their little hands warm, but you couldn’t go rifling through Mr. Skywalker’s closet either.  It would not reflect well on you if you were caught snooping around in your employer’s personal belongings.  You reached in your own pockets and pulled out a pair of gloves, which were far too big for either of them. 

You checked the calendar that hung on the bulletin board in the kitchen.  The cork board was mounted on the wall mostly for your sake.  Mr. Skywalker had tacked up a list of important phone numbers, medical information about Luke and Leia, and a calendar with dates of significance marked on it in pen.  You scanned until you found the right day.  Nothing was marked, which meant that Mr. Skywalker wasn’t in court that day.  He always wrote down when he had a trial because it meant you would be unable to contact him in case of an emergency.  You dialed the number of his office and smiled when you heard a familiar voice on the other end of the line.

“You’ve reached the office of Attorney Anakin Skywalker at the Kenobi-Skywalker law firm.  This is his assistant speaking,” a professional female voice greeted you.  “Mr. Skywalker is meeting with a client and is currently unavailable but should be done soon if you would like to call back later, leave a message, or schedule an appointment to speak with him in person.”

“Hey, Ahsoka!  It’s (Y/N).  I just had a quick question for Mr. Skywalker, but I can call back later.  It’s nothing urgent.”

“Nonsense, (Y/N),” the assistant said, dropping the professionalism and speaking much more casually.  “I’ll let him know you’re on the line.”

“No, I don’t want to interrupt him if he’s with a client.  It’s really not that important,” you assured her.

“Oh,” she giggled, “he’s not actually meeting with anyone right now.  He just told me to say that if anyone called trying to talk to him.  He had some work on a case that he wanted to finish, and he didn’t want to deal with any clients.”

“I won’t bother him if he wants to be left alone,” you insisted.

“Can you hold for a second?”

“Yeah, I guess…”

“Great!”

When the hold music began to play, it sounded like something that you would hear in an elevator.  You couldn’t imagine either Mr. Skywalker or Ahsoka picking a smooth jazz tone to play over the line while clients were on hold.  You assumed it was a default that no one had ever bothered to change.

Ahsoka Tano was a few years younger than you and had been Mr. Skywalker’s assistant before you began babysitting his kids.  She worked at the firm to pay her way through law school, although it was quite obvious that she was also being groomed to have a position as a lawyer at the firm once she passed the bar exam.  You had met her on a few occasions, and she proved herself to be just as pleasant in person as she was over the phone. 

When the music stopped playing, the voice that spoke was not Ahsoka’s.

“Hello, this is Anakin.”  He didn’t sound angry that you had interrupted whatever he was doing.

“Um, hello, Mr. Skywalker.  It’s (Y/N).  Sorry to bother you at work.”

“No problem, (Y/N).  Is something wrong?” He sounded concerned.  You mentally criticized yourself for calling him.  He probably thought it was an emergency.

“No, sir, nothing’s wrong.  I just had a question for you.  Ahsoka said you were working on a case and wanted to be left alone.  If you’re busy, this can wait.  It really isn’t that important.”

“I’ve been doing paperwork for the past few hours.”  He laughed.  “At this point, any distraction is more than welcome.”

“Well, the kids want to play outside in the snow, but they don’t have any hats or gloves.  Do you know where those might be?”

“Hmmm…” He thought for a moment.  “They’re probably put away in a box at the back of the closet in my bedroom.  It’s probably marked with something like ‘winter’ on the side.  You may have to dig around a bit, but it should be in there somewhere.”

“Are you okay with me going through your closet, though?”

“Why? Are you planning on stealing something?” he joked.  “It’s fine, really.  I may have some skeletons in my closet, but only metaphorically.  I don’t have any drugs or stolen artwork stashed away in there, so unless you find suit jackets to be particularly scandalous, don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks, Mr. Skywalker,” you said with a laugh.  There was something about his good-natured demeanor that always made you feel at ease even though he simultaneously made you rather nervous.  “Again, I’m sorry about calling you at work.”

“It’s really no big deal,” he told you again.  You held your cell phone between your head and shoulder as you helped Luke and Leia out of their coats.  You didn’t want them to melt while you were looking for their winter gear. “Oh, since you’re going up to the closet anyway, I think there’s still a box of the kids’ winter clothes from last year.  They’ve both grown so much that there’s no way any of it will fit.  If you could just haul it downstairs, that would be great.  I’ll take it to Goodwill on my way to work tomorrow.

“Also, is it still snowing?” Mr. Skywalker asked.  “My windows are too foggy to see outside.”

“Um…” you glanced out the window, where large flakes were still falling down from the sky.  “Yeah, it’s still snowing a little bit.”

“Okay, thanks.”  He seemed a bit put off by the weather conditions.  “Let me know if you have trouble finding the right box. I guess I’ll see you when I get home.”

“I guess so. Bye, Mr. Skywalker.”

You pulled out some paper and markers so Luke and Leia could draw while you searched for their hats, scarves, and gloves.  While you knew where it was located, you had never actually been inside of Mr. Skywalker’s bedroom before.  It seemed like an invasion of his privacy to be in there, and you had to remind yourself that he had given you permission. 

Once you were inside, you discovered that it was a spectacularly average room, although you weren’t sure what else you had expected.  There were two doors on the far side of the room, one of which was open and clearly the entrance to the master bathroom.  That meant that the other one had to lead to the closet.  While there was nothing particularly interesting about the bedroom itself, the closet was another story.

The closet was a walk-in that was more spacious than you realized was necessary for a room that only held clothing.  It was the same size as the adjacent bathroom, but not an inch of that space went unused.  You recognized Mr. Skywalker’s suits hanging along one wall, with some other more casual clothes folded on the shelves.  There were several pairs of men’s dress shoes:  loafers, oxfords, wing-tips.  Most of the closet, though, was occupied by women’s clothing.  There were countless dresses, skirts, and blouses in a variety of styles and colors.  Bold fabrics hung all around you with matching shoes and handbags lining the shelves.

Digging around behind the clothes you found a stack of boxes.  Unfortunately, none of them were labeled, meaning you would have to go through all of them to get to the things you needed.  The first box you opened contained only some heavy hardbound books about law and courtroom procedure.  Inside the next one, there were a few small Christmas decorations that had gotten left out and hadn’t been put away in the basement the year before.  The third box you picked up rattled when you lifted it.  When you pulled the top flaps open, you saw that it was full of picture frames and albums.  You removed one of the frames from the collection, looking at the photo it contained.

From inside the silvery border, a happy couple smiled up at you.  The man in the picture appeared to be a considerably younger version of Mr. Skywalker, perhaps in high school.  Next to him was a beautiful girl with long, dark hair and sparkling eyes.  She was looking at the camera, but he had eyes only for her.  Intrigued, you pulled out another photo.  This one was loose candid picture without a frame and featured the same two people, only a little bit later in life.  In this one, Mr. Skywalker was quite obviously drunk and holding a half-empty bottle of tequila in one hand with his other arm wrapped around the same girl.  When you flipped it over, you could see the words “Anakin’s 21st birthday” printed in neat handwriting on the back.  The next picture was encased in an elegant wooden frame and showed him in graduation robes with her standing right beside him in a brightly colored dress.  For the first time, it was obvious that his affections for the girl were reciprocated.  She smiled up at him with eyes full of pride, and you knew that the two were in love. 

It dawned on you then that the woman in all of the photographs was Mr. Skywalker’s wife and the mother of his children.  Your suspicions were confirmed by the next picture, which depicted the woman crying as he kneeled in front of her with a ring in his hand.  The next thing in the box was a wedding album.  You flipped through a couple of the pages and smiled.  They looked like such a happy couple. 

You had been babysitting Luke and Leia for about five months.  You knew their mother was no longer around, but you were unsure of the circumstances surrounding that.  It had never been mentioned, and you had never brought it up, as it was still clearly a touchy subject in the house.  Whatever had happened, it had transpired not long before you began working for the Skywalkers.  In his wife’s absence, Mr. Skywalker had tried for a while to keep up with both work and his children, but he couldn’t do it alone.  He had hired a babysitter so he wouldn’t have to leave his children in daycare every evening until he finished at the office. 

Next came Luke and Leia.  There were several framed pictures of the twins as babies being held by their parents.  An entire photo album of the first year of their lives was also present in the box.  It was amazing to you that a photograph could capture how in love they were with each other and with the two new lives they had brought into the world.

The next photographs in the box were of Mr. and Mrs. Skywalker in front of a sign that said Kenobi and Skywalker:  Attorneys at Law. There was also another man standing on the other side of the sign.  He was older than Mr. Skywalker and sported a short beard.  The lettering still looked new, which led you to believe that it was the grand opening of the firm and that the other man must have been Kenobi.  Up until that point in the pictures, Mr. Skywalker had sported hair that fell almost to his shoulders.  In this one, though, it was cropped short.  He had selected a more professional cut for the new chapter in his life as a father and partner in a law firm.

There were more pictures in the box, but you suddenly remembered why you were in the closet in the first place.  You carefully packed everything back up and pushed the cardboard box to the side, pulling the next one from the stack.  The winter clothes Mr. Skywalker had mentioned were in that one, so you set it aside to take downstairs with you.  The next box contained what you were looking for.

You walked down the stairs with your arms full, leaning on the wall for support so as not to go tumbling down the steps.  You placed the box of old clothing by the front door and carried the other one over to where Luke and Leia were coloring.

“Are you guys ready to go outside and play in the snow?” you asked cheerfully.

The kids cheered enthusiastically, excited to finally be able to go outside and build a snowman.  They chattered happily about all the things they were going to do in the snow while you bundled them back up in their coats, pulling mittens on their hands and winding woolly scarves around their necks.  After making sure their hoods were pulled down securely over their heads, you put on your own outerwear.

Until you stepped outside, you had forgotten just how cold it was.  The wind chilled you to your bones, even through the thick material of your coat as it blew snow through the air.  Your feet were freezing in your rubber boots.  They kept your feet dry but did nothing in terms of keeping you warm.  You were jealous of the twins, whose shoes were insulated and made for the weather. 

The kids had just barely begun a snowball fight when the lightly falling snowflakes suddenly turned into sleet.  The freezing rain bounced off of every surface and stung when it hit you.  You ran back inside, ushering Luke and Leia in front of you as you tried to avoid being pelted with ice.

The fact that they had not been outside more than five minutes did not mean that they didn’t have ample time to become soaked with cold water.  You helped them back out of their coats for the second time, hanging their little parkas up on hooks by the backdoor to dry.  Next, you pulled off their boots and snow pants, under which they both wore sweatpants for warmth.  You abandoned your own coat and boots at the back door and sent the twins upstairs to put on dry clothes before going to the kitchen to make them hot chocolate.

Soon, you were all three seated on the couch in the living room, drinking steaming cups of hot cocoa with marshmallows and watching a movie.  Luke and Leia were wrapped in blankets, still freezing from being outside in the cold.   You had turned on the electric fireplace to help them warm up.  It was nice being bundled up and cozy inside while the weather outside was becoming worse.  It was shaping up to be a real blizzard out there.  You were perfectly content and happy when you heard the front door open.

Mr. Skywalker was standing just inside the door shaking the snow and sleet off of his coat and out of his hair.  His cheeks were bright red, either from the cold wind or from being pelted with freezing rain.

“Daddy, you’re home!”  The kids jumped up from the couch and rushed to hug their father like they did every day when he came home.  You glanced at the clock on the mantle and noticed that it was a whole hour earlier than he usually returned from work.

“Yeah, the storm was really picking up out there, so I left while I knew there was still a chance to get home.  The roads are awful,” he added, turning to you.  “Be careful out there.  I almost went off the road twice on the way home.”

“Thanks for the warning, Mr. Skywalker.”  You really were grateful for the tip.  “I’ll be careful.”

You got your coat and boots from the back door, pulling them on as you made your way back to the front of the house.  You were wrapping your scarf around your neck when Mr. Skywalker gently laid a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m serious about you being careful out there,” he told you.  His face showed genuine concern.  “The streets are icy, and I don’t want you getting into an accident.  If you have any trouble, just call me, and I’ll try to help you out.  In fact, call me when you get home, so I know you’re okay.”

“I’ll be fine,” you assured him.  “I’ve driven in the snow before.  It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Still,” he frowned, “I’m going to worry about you driving in this.  My SUV has four-wheel drive, and I had a tough time keeping it on the road.  It’s going to be worse in that little thing you drive.”

He was right.  Anakin Skywalker drove a vehicle you could only afford in your dreams.  It was an enormous luxury sport utility vehicle with all of the latest technology built in, including every kind of safety feature imaginable.  If that monster of a car couldn’t make it through the ice storm, your tiny Volkswagen Beetle didn’t stand a chance.  That didn’t change the fact that you had to make it home, though.

After saying your goodbyes and promising yet again that you would call when you made it home, you headed out the door.  You had anticipated that you would have to scrape the ice and snow off of your windows, but it had already been done.  Apparently, Mr. Skywalker had taken care of it before he went inside.  You smiled at his thoughtfulness and made a mental note to thank him when you called. 

The roads were even worse than you thought.  You drove along at a crawl, unable to see more than a few feet in front of your vehicle.  The snow was swirling around in such a flurry that it obstructed your view.  Every slight turn or bump sent you sliding.  When you tried to halt at a stop sign, you slid right through to the other side of the intersection.  Luckily you were the only car on the road.  Otherwise, you would have surely gotten into an accident.

Your luck ran out when you reached a gentle curve in the road.  You tried to keep control of the wheel, but you were caught on a patch of ice.  The car drifted off into the ditch at the side of the road.  You turned the wheel and gently pressed the gas pedal, trying to steer yourself out.  You only succeeded in flinging snow into the air as your tires spun uselessly in the snow.

Scared, frustrated, and all alone in a snowstorm, you did the only thing you could think of and pulled out your phone.

“Hello, Mr. Skywalker?”


	3. Stranded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you're stranded on the side of the road, you call someone you can trust to come to the rescue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little shorter than the first two chapters because I didn't want to try and cram in what's going to happen in Chapter 4. Also, I've been spending most of my time staring at the wall thinking about Rogue One and how much I'm in love with Cassian Andor. I've already seen it twice, and I can't handle my emotions. I couldn't help but include a tiny little Rogue One reference in this chapter.

You shivered as chunks of ice pounded against your snow-covered windshield.  The blizzard had become so wild that it was nearly impossible to see anything outside.  You hoped Mr. Skywalker would be able to find you in the storm.  You had turned your hazard lights on as a precaution, but they had become completely coated in snow.  Sitting and doing nothing only caused your panic to grow. 

When you had called Mr. Skywalker, you informed him of your current location as specifically as you could, and he had promised to be there as soon as he could.  However, it had been almost twenty minutes since your call had ended, and the sky was becoming progressively darker.  The side of the road on a dangerous curve was one of the absolute worst places to be stranded during such a severe winter storm.

At least it was warm inside of your car.

You had jinxed yourself.  Almost as soon as you had acknowledged the warmth provided by the heater, the engine groaned and sputtered, shutting off.  Frantically, you turned the key in the ignition, willing the old VW Bug to start back up again.  Eventually it became evident that the Beetle could not be revived under the current weather conditions.  You slumped back in the driver’s seat, defeated, wondering what on earth you were going to do.  There was no one else you could call for help.  Your parents were visiting your aunt in Florida, and the roommate you shared an apartment with had already gone home for the holidays to see her family. 

A chill was creeping into the interior of your vehicle, and you pulled your coat around yourself tighter, desperately trying to draw from it whatever extra warmth you could.  This had to be the worst day of your life.  All you had wanted to do was go home to your cozy little apartment and maybe watch a Christmas movie.  Instead, you were stranded in a ditch in the worst snowstorm of the decade.  You were close to tears when your phone rang.

“H-hello?” In your distress, you hadn’t bothered looking at the caller ID, although you had an idea as to who might be calling.

“(Y/N), where are you?” demanded Mr. Skywalker’s voice on the other end of the line.  The slightly faraway sound hinted that he was using the Bluetooth in his SUV to speak handsfree.  “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Mr. Skywalker,” you assured him, “but my engine just died.  Like I said before, I’m on the side of the road by the big curve on Jedha Avenue.”

“Are you sure about that?  I’m on Jedha, and I don’t see your car anywhere.  Just stay on the line, and I’ll try to find you.  Okay?”

“Sure thing, Mr. Skywalker.”

If he was on Jedha Avenue, that meant he was close.  You couldn’t see out of your car windows, though, so there was no way of noticing his arrival.  You tried to push open the driver’s side door to look outside, but it wouldn’t budge.  In the time that you had been stuck in the ditch, the snow must have drifted across the road and piled against your vehicle.  Awkwardly, you managed to climb over to the other side and open the passenger door, pulling behind you the small bag you always carried with you when you went to the Skywalker house. 

Once you stepped outside, it became clear why Mr. Skywalker was unable to see your vehicle.  Almost every inch was covered in snow.  To the naked eye, it was just another inconsequential snowbank.  No one would ever guess that there was an entire care underneath the blanket of white.

“I just got out of the car,” you informed him.  “It got buried by a snow drift, but you should be able to see me now that I’m out.”

“I already passed the curve, but I’ve turned around.  A huge tree fell across the road about a quarter of a mile down,” he informed you.  “It’s blocking the entire street.”

You could see headlights approaching, so you waved your arms to draw attention to yourself.  The large sport utility vehicle pulled over beside you and stopped.  You hung up the phone and gratefully climbed into the passenger seat, shivering from the cold and thankful for the feeling of heat blowing on your chilled limbs.

“Are you alright?” Mr. Skywalker asked you again.  He reached out a gloved hand and placed it against one of your bright pink cheeks.  “You look like you’re freezing.”

You shivered involuntarily, and it wasn’t from the cold.  It was lucky that your face was already flushed from the harsh wind because the deep blush that resulted from the feeling of his fingers on your skin would have otherwise been impossible to hide.  You were thankful for the warmth it provided to aid in the defrosting of your cheeks.  All too soon, though, he pulled his hand away, clearing his throat and looking out the window.

“Alright, where am I taking you?” he asked.

“My apartment is on Kessel Street,” you told him.  “It’s only a couple of miles from here.”

“Kessel… Kessel…”  You could tell that he was trying to remember where the road was located.  “Is that past Kamino Street?”

“I think so.”

Mr. Skywalker sighed.  “Is there another way to get there besides on Jedha?”

“I’m pretty sure this is the only way.  None of the other streets connect to Kessel,” you explained.  “It’s a dead-end stretch of road.”

“Dammit, that’s on the other side of that fallen tree I told you about.  I can’t get around that.  Is there somewhere else I can take you?  Don’t your parents live in town?”

“No, they’re in Florida for the holidays.  The house is all locked up, and I haven’t had a key since I moved out.”  You paused, trying to think of somewhere you could stay.  “Maybe I could stay at a hotel.  Isn’t the nearest one over by the interstate?”

“There’s no way I’m taking you there.”  He immediately shot down your suggestion.  “That roach motel is the skeeviest place I’ve ever laid eyes on – not to mention the fact that they charge by the hour.”

“How do you know they…” You were beginning to ask him why he was so well acquainted with the local no-tell motel, but he interjected before you finished the question.

“I represented a client in a lawsuit against the owner a few years ago,” he explained.  “I learned things about that place that still give me nightmares.  I would never be able to live with myself if I dropped you off there and saw a newspaper headline the next morning saying that you were murdered in your sleep by a crack dealer.  If there’s really nowhere you can go, you’re more than welcome to come back to the house.  I would offer you the guest room, but that’s Luke’s room now.  The couch is pretty comfortable, though, and I’m sure Leia would be excited beyond belief to have a sleepover with you.”

“I hate to impose…”

He laughed.  “It’s really not an imposition.  Honestly, letting you sleep on my couch is the least I can do.  So what do you say?”

“Well, if you insist…”

“Which I do.”

“It’s a much better option than a seedy roadside motel.  I guess I’ll accept your offer.”

With a grin, Mr. Skywalker shifted his car into drive and began travelling slowly forward over the icy road.  While you wanted nothing more than to spend a cozy evening at home in your apartment, something told you that a night spent at the Skywalker residence would be far from unpleasant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter! The next one is going to include some holiday cheer and perhaps some hints at a budding romance. Also, prepare yourself for a sleepover with the Skywalkers.
> 
> Update: I didn't have enough time before Christmas to write a holiday chapter, so it's just going to be a regular winter-y chapter like all the rest.


	4. Getting to Know You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You realize that there is more to Mr. Skywalker than meets the eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Booyah! Everything's getting updated today. I updated A New Master as well as Cats and Commands. I'm on a posting streak!

The second Mr. Skywalker opened the door, you could hear the sounds of running and shouting.  There was a person you had never seen before standing in the middle of the living room looking completely overwhelmed while Luke and Leia ran laps around the main floor of the house.  He was a tall, stately looking gentleman with dark hair and a goatee.  His presence commanded respect, but apparently that effect was lost on the children, who were sprinting like madmen across the room.

“Sorry, Bail.  I came back as soon as I could,” Mr. Skywalker said with a wince when he saw the destruction the twins had wreaked on the house in the short time he was gone.  “Thanks for watching the kids for me.”

“It’s no problem, Anakin,” the man in the living room insisted, his voice making it sound like it was, in fact, quite a bit of a problem.  “I’m happy to take care of them any time.”

“(Y/N), this is Bail Organa,” Mr. Skywalker explained, realizing that you and the other man had never met.  “He and my wife served on the city council together.  He lives just down the street, so I asked him to watch Leia and Luke while I came to get you.  Bail, this is (Y/N) (L/N).  She babysits the kids, and I honestly don’t know what I’d do without her.  As you can see, it takes a special kind of person to keep these two under control.”

He placed his hand on your shoulder while he spoke about you, causing a blush to rise in your cheeks.  You knew Mr. Skywalker meant what he said, and it made you feel proud, even though you were just doing your job. 

“Well, I need to get back to the house and to Breha while I can still walk through this snow,” Mr. Organa said, dismissing himself.  “If it gets much deeper, I won’t be able to go home.”

“Thank you again for taking care of the kids on such short notice.  I really appreciate it.”

When Bail Organa had left, you assessed the damage that the kids had caused.  It appeared as though they had dragged out every single toy they owned and scattered them around the house.  There were plastic playthings everywhere you looked.  Luke and Leia rushed back into the room and came to an abrupt halt when they saw you and their father standing inside. 

“Daddy, you’re back!” Luke shouted, an enormous grin spreading across his face. 

“Why is (Y/N) here?” Leia asked bluntly.

“The roads are blocked, so (Y/N) is going to be staying here tonight.  It’ll be kind of like a sleepover,” Mr. Skywalker explained.

“A sleepover!  Yippee!”  Leia exclaimed, running towards the stairs.  “I’ll go put on my pajamas.”

“Hold on, Leia.  It isn’t even dinnertime yet.  How about we wait a while before you get ready for bed, okay?” her father suggested.

He continued to speak with Leia, and all the while Luke tried to get his attention, impatiently pulling on his right hand.  After one particularly forceful tug, you watched a scene unfold in which Luke fell backwards onto his bottom and Mr. Skywalker’s arm was jerked from his coat sleeve.  In your moment of shock, you saw that his arm had been torn from its socket.  A bloodcurdling scream passed your lips as his appendage crashed to the floor. When he saw the look of horror plastered on your face, Mr. Skywalker burst out in laughter.  At first, you were confused about what was happening , but it gradually dawned on you that the missing limb was a prosthesis –  and a _very_ realistic one at that.

With a sigh, Mr. Skywalker picked up his false arm from the floor and set it down on an end table while he began to unbutton his coat.  “Luke, you’ll have to be more careful in the future.”

He hung his coat up on the hook and unwound his scarf, once again using his teeth to remove his left glove.  You looked to the end table, where the other glove remained on his removed limb. You watched as he continued taking off his winterwear with only one hand.  He was still in his clothes from work, minus the suit jacket and tie.  His right sleeve hung limply beside his body, and you tried your hardest not to stare, not wanting to appear rude.  Instead, you opted to look at an inconspicuous spot on the hardwood floor.

“(Y/N), can you hand me that glove?” Mr. Skywalker asked. Tentatively, you reached out to the prosthetic appendage and carefully pulled off the glove, holding it out for him to take.  As he shoved it into one of his coat pockets, he smirked at you and said, “You know, you’re not going to break the arm.  Luke just threw it halfway across the room and there isn’t even a scratch to show it happened.”

“I just didn’t realize...” You didn’t know what to say.  You felt your cheeks heating up, and you knew you were blushing again, this time from embarrassment.

“It’s really not a big deal.  You don’t have to act like you don’t notice.  I mean, you’re not fooling anyone by staring at the floor,” he joked.

You watched as rolled up his right sleeve a bit so it no longer hung empty by his side.  You expected him to replace his prosthesis, but instead he crouched down and spoke to Leia.

“Can you roll up the other one for me?”  After she obligingly unbuttoned the cuff and pushed the sleeve up to his elbow, he ruffled her hair and placed a kiss on her forehead.  “Thanks, princess.”

“Daddy, where’s (Y/N) going to sleep?” Luke asked, sounding a bit concerned.  “We only have three beds, and there’s already three of us.”

“I’m going to sleep on the couch,” you explained.

“Daddy’s bed fits two people,” Leia pointed out.  “Why don’t you sleep there?”

“I, um…”  You were mortified at the thought of even trying to come up with an answer for her question, and if your face was red, it was nothing compared to Mr. Skywalker’s.  He looked as if he were praying for the sweet release of death.

“(Y/N) doesn’t want to sleep in my bed, Leia,” he said after several moments of awkward silence had passed.

“Why not?” Luke asked innocently.  “Your bed’s the comfiest one in the whole house.”

“Well, it’s not really a question of…” he began.  “What I mean to say is…”  He was floundering for words.

“Grown-ups don’t usually sleep in the same bed together,” you told the kids, looking to Mr. Skywalker, who nodded his appreciation at the fact that you were able to come up with something to say.  He looked relieved, but his cheeks were still flushed crimson.

“Mommy and Daddy used to sleep together,” Leia said matter-of-factly. 

“That’s a little different,” Mr. Skywalker told her, finally able to come up with something to say.  “We were married.”

You froze.  It was rare that anyone in the Skywalker house mentioned the one family member who was not present.  You weren’t entirely sure how to react.  As you watched him absentmindedly spin his wedding band with his thumb, you realized that you had never before taken notice of the plain gold ring that adorned one of the fingers on his left hand.  You had not ever been told why Mrs. Skywalker was no longer around, but the fact that he was still wearing his ring gave you a fairly good idea.

“Hmm… Well, maybe you should get married,” Luke suggested quite seriously.  “That way (Y/N) can stay here all the time, and she won’t have to sleep on the couch.”

“I have a better idea,” teased Mr. Skywalker, finally able to regain his usual joking demeanor.  “How about you sleep in the bathtub, and (Y/N) sleeps in your bed?”

“Daddy, no!” Luke giggled. “Leia can sleep in the tub, though.”

The twins began to bicker about who deserved to sleep in the bathroom, and eventually their argument evolved into a game of chase, once more leaving you alone with Mr. Skywalker.

“Thanks again for letting me stay here.”

“It’s the least I can do to repay you for taking care of the kids,” he insisted, making his way over to the couch, where he took a seat.

“You’re already paying me to do the job, and you pay me more than anyone else I’ve babysat for in the past ever has.”

“That’s because I know firsthand the kind of chaos those two can cause.”

“They really aren’t that bad,” you told him.  “They just have a lot of energy.”

“Yeah,” he laughed, “all of that energy is part of the problem, and you have to admit that they can do some pretty hefty destruction if given the opportunity.”

“I guess that’s true,” you conceded.  You looked around at the carnage of whatever Luke and Leia had done while Bail Organa was watching them.  The twins did have a penchant for creating messes.

“You know you’re allowed to sit down, right?” Mr. Skywalker said jokingly, raising an eyebrow.  “You can also take your coat off, if you want.”

It was only then that you noticed you were standing awkwardly at the edge of the room by where the arm incident had taken place, still bundled up in the outerwear that was necessary to face the elements outside.  Once you had shed the layers that had been keeping you warm in the blizzard, you were much more comfortable indoors.  You hung your coat up on one of the hooks by the door and made your way over to the couch where Mr. Skywalker was, taking a seat at the other end and keeping a respectable amount of distance between the two of you.  You were still a little bit embarrassed from the bed conversation.

By the time you had taken a seat, he had pulled some papers out of his briefcase and began looking them over.  He was clearly comfortable with the silence that had fallen over the room, but it made you slightly nervous.  You spent a great deal of time in the Skywalker house during an average week.  However, you only spent time with the kids.  You weren’t entirely sure how to act with the head of the household at home.

You glanced at Mr. Skywalker.  He was leaned back on the sofa with his left ankle crossed over his right knee.  His brow was furrowed as he contemplated whatever was written on the papers propped up against his leg and absentmindedly tapped an ink pen against his lower lip, occasionally making a mark on one of the pages.  You hadn’t had much opportunity in the past to really _look_ at him.  The most time you had ever spent with him was the day you first met him.  Since then, you saw him almost every single day, but only in passing as he came home and you left.  You had never been in such close quarters with him as you were in the car when he picked you up from the side of the road.

You knew Mr. Skywalker was in his early thirties, but you were unsure of his actual age.  His hair was cropped in a short, professional style that was very different than what you had seen in the old pictures you had come across earlier that day.  For the first time, you were seeing him without a suit jacket.  You were so accustomed to him wearing a tie that it was a bit strange to see him with his sleeves pushed up and the top couple of buttons on his shirt undone.  You had seen casual clothing in his closet, but you couldn’t picture him wearing any of it in your mind.  Your imagination refused to place him in anything but a suit.

You were close enough to him now to notice a thin vertical scar that crossed over his right eye.  It was too dark in the car to see such a small detail, and you had never paid any attention to it before, but it stood out harshly against his skin in the light of the living room.  Needless to say, you were intrigued as to how he had received the injury.  Mr. Skywalker was becoming more and more of an enigma to you.

He seemed to notice after some time had passed that you were sitting quietly at the other end of the couch.  Setting aside the papers he had been considering, he turned to face you.

“So, (Y/N),” Mr. Skywalker cleared his throat, interrupting your train of thought and breaking the silence that had fallen over the room, “I can’t say I really know all that much about you.  I know the basics, of course.  I did interview you, after all.  I don’t think I’ve ever sat down and talked to you as a person, though.”

“Uh…” It was true, but you weren’t entirely sure what to say in response.  It occurred to you that this might be an opportune time to unravel some of the mysteries that surrounded the man.  “I guess I don’t know all that much about you either, Mr. Skywalker.”

“You don’t have to call me that, (Y/N),” he frowned.

“Sorry,” you told him. “It’s just that it feels kind of weird to call you by your first name since you’re my boss and all.”

His frown dissipated and was replaced with a slight grin.  “I’m not really your boss, though; you babysit my kids.  Plus, it’s a little weird to _me_ for you to be spending the night on my couch and still calling me Mr. Skywalker.  It makes me feel like I’m running a bed and breakfast, and if that’s the case, it’s not a very good one, and I should be charging you to stay here.  Seriously, just call me Anakin.”

“Alright then, Anakin, what do you want to know?”

“Well, all I know about you so far is that you work retail and graduated from college not too long before you started babysitting Leia and Luke.  I know your mother is a friend of Dr. Jinn, but other than that, I’m completely in the dark.  Anything you tell me will help me get a little bit closer to figuring out just who you are.”

You decided just to jump right into your autobiography.  “Well, I was born and raised here in town.  I decided to stay here for college because I got a scholarship, and it was cheaper just to commute from home than to pay room and board at some other university.  I got a degree in early childhood education, but I haven’t been able to find a job so far.  I’ve been working at the mall since I graduated and moved into my apartment just a few weeks before I started taking care of the kids.”

“No.” He shook his head.  “You sound like you’re at a job interview.  Tell me about _you_ not your résumé.”

“You mean like fun facts?”

“Sure, why not?” he shrugged.

“Well, I can think of a few particularly fun ones off the top of my head,” you informed him.  “I once walked competitively in a 5-k and won first place, I’m allergic to daffodils, I collect postcards, and I like to grow houseplants.  I enjoy cookie dough ice cream.  I’ve never been to Niagara Falls.  Oh, and I can’t whistle.”

Mr. Skywalker laughed.  It was a deep, genuine laugh that was unlike what you were used to hearing from him.  Somehow, it was more real.

“See, that’s more like it!” he grinned broadly.  “You’ve peaked my interest.”

“Your turn.  You can start out with the job interview sort of stuff because I really only know that you’re a lawyer and have two kids.”

“Well, I’m not from around here.  I actually grew up in the Southwest.  Even after living here for all these years, I can’t say I’m used to the snow yet.  I came here for college, and I proposed to my girlfriend Padmé right after graduating from law school.  We got married within the year and moved into this house.  I practiced law at a few different places, but after the kids were born, I opened a new firm with my friend Obi-Wan Kenobi.  I’ve been there ever since and can’t imagine leaving.”

“Okay, so now I know the basics.  What else can you tell me?”

“What else do you want to know?” he asked.  “I’m a pretty open book.”

The questions that weighed most heavily on your mind were the ones you didn’t dare voice aloud.  You couldn’t very well ask him how he lost his arm or what had given him the scar on his face.  Above all else, you didn’t feel comfortable asking him why his wife wasn’t around.

“How about some fun facts?” you suggested.

“Alright,” Mr. Skywalker thought out loud.  “Fun facts…  What’s a fun fact about me?  Okay, well, I’m an only child.  I don’t like Hot Pockets.  When I was little, I wanted to be a racecar driver.  I’ve never gone fishing, nor do I have the desire to.  And… What else?  Oh, I hate sand.”

“You hate sand?”

“I grew up in the desert,” he pointed out.  “Try living your entire young life with sand in your shoes.  You never really get used to it.  There’s a reason I won’t let the kids have a sandbox.”

“Well, now we both know a little bit more about each other,” you said.

“Oh, by the time you leave, I’m going to know your entire life story.  You can count on that.”

Something told you, though, that you were barely going to scratch the surface of who Mr. Skywalker was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can Luke and Leia get a shout-out for making things super uncomfortable for you and their dad? Children make a nifty plot device from time to time.


	5. A Night With the Skywalkers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leia has big sleepover plans, and you continue to get closer to Mr. Skywalker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo... I've only been planning this a couple chapters in advance plot-wise. Right now, I have an ending and a few major plot points planned, but I don't know what you would like to see happen in the meantime. 
> 
> I want to write something that you all want to read, so what do you guys want to see from this fic? Do you want it to stay fluffy? Do you want some eventual smut? Do you want some chapters with just the reader and the twins? Should I include more references and characters from the Star Wars universe?
> 
> Let me know in the comments!

“You look great, Luke.  I don’t see what you’re so upset about.” Anakin Skywalker struggled to suppress his laughter as he spoke to his son, but it was obviously very difficult for him.  Luke was standing in front of him, wailing, but it was impossible to take the situation seriously.  It was just too funny.

At some point, it struck you that by saying the word “sleepover” to Leia, Mr. Skywalker had unknowingly doomed you to an entire night of slumber party activities.  The first thing on Leia’s agenda?  Makeovers. 

Sometime after dinner, Leia had grabbed you by the hand and led you upstairs to her father’s bathroom, where she began to drag out an enormous stash of makeup that you realized had belonged to her mother.  There were eyeshadows in every shade imaginable, multiple palettes of contouring powder, fancy brushes you didn’t know the intended functions of, and beauty tools you had never seen before and frankly didn’t understand.  Mrs. Skywalker clearly liked makeup as much as she liked clothing. 

Mr. Skywalker leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom, clearly not wanting to miss a moment of his daughter’s artistic process.  Luke happened to wander by and was recruited by Leia to be her first victim.  She told him to sit on the floor so she could make him look pretty, which he seemed to be excited about.  He was always eager to take part in his sister’s schemes, and this occasion was no different.  A great deal of thought went into selecting the right products to put on him, but she eventually made a decision.  Very carefully, she painted and brushed and drew all over his face.

“I’m done,” she informed him with a nod when she had finished.  “You can look now.”

He wasn’t tall enough to see into the mirror, and since the children didn’t normally use this bathroom, there wasn’t a step stool.  You lifted Luke up so he could look at his reflection, and he immediately burst into a fit of tears. 

“I look like a monster!” he sobbed.  Leia had used a very generous amount of blue eyeshadow and had taken a rather ambitious approach to eyeliner application in which she drew what appeared to be butterflies all over her brother’s face.  His natural smile had apparently not been wide enough, so she used bright red lipstick to extend his lip line.

Luke’s tears were beginning to make the makeup run, which only made it look more atrocious, causing him to cry even more.  Mr. Skywalker was giggling too hard to be of any comfort, although he really tried to say nice things about his son’s new look.  He eventually stopped laughing long enough to find a washcloth and wipe the makeup off of Luke’s face, which brought an end to the tears.

“Now you, (Y/N),” Leia announced once her brother had run off.  “Don’t worry.  I made Luke ugly on purpose.”

She once again dug through the seemingly unending supply of beauty products to find the ones she would use for your makeover.  You were relieved to see she had picked slightly (but only _very_ slightly) less garish colors for you than for her brother.  You sat quietly on the floor while she created her masterpiece on your face. 

“All finished!” she announced after some time.  When you tried to stand up and look in the mirror, she stopped you.  “No, Daddy has to see you first.  He has to see how pretty you look.  He already thinks you’re pretty, though.  He told me so.”

You stole a glance at Mr. Skywalker, whose hand was splayed across his face in embarrassment.  Had he really said that he thought you were pretty?  You usually didn’t place much stock in what others thought of your appearance, but a warm feeling erupted in your stomach at the thought of Mr. Skywalker finding you attractive.  Leia turned you towards him and made him look at you.

“Doesn’t she look good, Daddy?”

“Beautiful,” he told her with a nod.  “You’ve outdone yourself this time.  It’s your best work yet, princess.”  
  
Leia beamed, basking in the light of her father’s praise.  From what you had seen of him, Mr. Skywalker always had something positive to say to his children.  He encouraged their pursuits, no matter what they might be. 

Leia cleaned up her mess as per her father’s instructions, running off to find Luke and leaving you alone with Mr. Skywalker in the master bedroom.  You finally got a chance to look at yourself in the mirror, and you had to admit that Leia hadn’t done a bad job.  It was a little messy and brightly colored for your taste, but she had done excellent work for a four-year-old.

“I think you look better with a more natural look,” Mr. Skywalker said with a smirk, tossing you a washcloth with which to wipe off your face.

“Yeah, I don’t usually wear this much bright pink eyeshadow,” you told him.

He didn’t say anything for a while, just silently watching you remove the makeup.  When he spoke up again, it was quiet and not in his usual joking demeanor.

“Leia asked me, just so you know,” he said seriously.  When you didn’t answer and merely gave him a look of confusion, he clarified. “Leia asked me if I thought you were pretty, and I said yes.  It’s kind of the same either way, but I just… I didn’t want you to think I had brought it up as the topic of conversation.  I don’t really talk about... I just don’t want you to be weirded out or anything.”

“I’m not.  I completely understand,” you told him.  “Thanks for not telling her that you think I’m a hideous she-beast, though.  It means a lot.”

He cracked a smile, which was the reaction you had been aiming for.  You had to admit to yourself that you liked it when Mr. Skywalker smiled.

*****

The twins determined that the next activity on the sleepover agenda was a movie.  Apparently, the Skywalker family generally took turns picking movies, and it was Luke’s turn, which meant that whatever film got selected would be about outer space.  He eventually decided on _Wall-E_.

Everyone crowded onto the couch.  Leia wanted to sit by you, and Luke wanted to sit by Leia but also by the arm of the sofa in case he fell asleep.  Once they were nestled in, taking up more room than you realized was possible for two people their size, you found yourself much closer to Mr. Skywalker than you had ever been before.  Almost the entire length of your thigh was pressed against his, and your shoulders were touching.  It really wasn’t as uncomfortable as you had originally anticipated.

You didn’t know you had fallen asleep until you woke up to the rolling credits at the end of the movie, your head resting against something warm and firm.  You realized with a start that it was Mr. Skywalker’s left shoulder. 

“Morning, sunshine,” he said with a bright smile as you lifted your head. 

He clearly wasn’t as mortified by the situation as you were.  At least you hadn’t done anything too embarrassing like drool on his shirt.  You looked to your left and saw Luke and Leia fast asleep on the couch beside you.

“I think it’s time for these two to go to bed,” he told you.  He turned on the lights and shook them awake, sending them upstairs to put on their pajamas before going up to tuck them into bed and make sure they brushed their teeth. 

“What time is it?” you yawned, squinting in the direction of the clock when he came back downstairs.

“Um…” He looked at his wristwatch.  “Eight o’clock.  I usually can’t get those two into bed until almost nine, but I think you tired them out today.”

“It’s only eight?” you asked incredulously.  There was no way on earth it could be that early.

“Yup.”

What were the two of you supposed to do next?  Awkward silence hung over the room as you both tried to think of something to say.

“Soooo… you wanna watch a movie or something?” Mr. Skywalker suggested, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“Well, you know how that turned out last time.  If I couldn’t make it through _Wall-E_ , I don’t know if I can get through another movie without falling asleep.”

“What if it’s an action movie with a lot of gratuitous violence and unnecessary explosions?”

“Minimal plot?” you asked, intrigued.

“Is there any other kind?”

“Let’s do it.”

You spent the next hour and a half on the couch with Mr. Skywalker watching a cheesy action flick where something inexplicably blew up every few minutes.  There was a more respectable distance between the two of you this time, but you found yourself focusing more on him than on the screen.  You noticed the way his chest rose and fell when he breathed and how he seemed most comfortable when one of his ankles was crossed over the opposite knee.  When the movie ended, you realized that you had watched almost none of it.  You were too intrigued by the man sitting next to you, whom you still knew almost nothing about.

You continued watching him as he turned off the television and stood.

“That movie was terrible,” he admitted, “but it’s kind of refreshing to watch something that isn’t animated.  I guess I should get you some blankets and pillows and that sort of thing,” he said, heading up the stairs.  You were unsure if he meant for you to follow him, but he returned about a minute later with an armload of bedding.  “Everything you need should be here.  If you think of anything else, just let me know.  There’s a pack of toothbrushes under the sink in the bathroom in the upstairs hall.  Other than that, you probably know where everything is. Oh!” He thought of something else.  “You probably don’t have anything to sleep in.”

He was right.  Your only belongings that weren’t back at your apartment were the things you brought with you when you were babysitting.  You didn’t typically carry an extra change of clothing with you whenever you left the house.

“I can just sleep in the clothes I’m wearing.  It’s fine,” you told him.

“You don’t have to do that. I’m sure there’s probably something upstairs you can wear.”

Back inside Mr. Skywalker’s closet, you were once again astounded by the numerous garments that hung all around you.  It was only earlier that same day that you had set foot inside for the first time, but you had already forgotten how full it was.  He pointed you towards a shelf that held nothing but pajamas.  It was all so different from the sweatpants and t-shirt you usually slept in.  Everything was part of a matching set.  Each silky button-up shirt had a matching pair of pants, and each pair of flannel pants had a matching top.  Several of them even had monogrammed pockets.  You were drawn in particular to a black pair of pajamas that you believed was likely made from real silk.  When you picked the pajamas up off the shelf, you could see white piping around the hem of the pants and cuffs of the shirt.  How on earth could material so luxurious be made into something meant for sleeping?

It was strange to be going through Mrs. Skywalker’s clothing like this.  So many of her possessions still filled a house she no longer occupied, a house where all the photographs of her were packed away in boxes.  You couldn’t help but wonder what had happened.

Choosing to abandon that train of thought, your hand travelled back to the black silk pajamas.  They really were nice to look at, and the material cascaded delicately over your hands as you held them up off the shelf.  It almost felt wrong to wear something so nice to sleep in… Almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The positivity surrounding this fic has been amazing! I love getting feedback from all of you, so feel free to let me know what you think and shoot me ideas about what you'd like to see.
> 
> Thanks!


	6. The Next Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a very poor night of sleep, you have a cup of coffee and a chat with a devastatingly under-caffeinated Mr. Skywalker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your input on what you'd like to see in future chapters, guys. I've taken your opinions into account, but I still haven't really made a decision about whether or not to include smut. A lot of you are really in favor of it, but there are some people who would be uncomfortable with it, and I don't want to turn anyone away who is already invested in the story. How would you guys feel about maybe just having compromising situations and IMPLIED smut, but keeping it all at the level of a T rating? If it's any consolation, I'm also currently working on a funny/fluffy/smutty reader-insert Anakin oneshot.
> 
> Let me know what you think!

A couple of times throughout the night you almost considered sleeping on the floor as an alternative to the dreadfully uncomfortable couch.  It was plenty nice to sit on, but it was simply not destined to be a mattress.  You tossed and turned restlessly throughout the night, wondering if anyone else in the house was having as much trouble sleeping as you were.  When you woke up for the sixth time that night at 4:00 A.M., you knew that rest was not in the cards for you.

Miraculously, the black silk pajamas you had liked so much actually fit you.  You were surprised, considering how petite Mr. Skywalker’s wife looked in all the photos you had seen.  You were glad, though, because they were even more comfortable than you had imagined.

You rose to your feet and stretched before making your way to the kitchen to get a glass of water.  You were surprised when you got there to see the light on and Mr. Skywalker intently staring at a pot of brewing coffee.  If you hadn’t been so tired, you would have laughed at him as he stood leaning forward with his hand against the counter, waiting for the last drops of coffee to drip into the pot.  He seemed to be whispering to the machine, as if he were willing it to go faster.

He was dressed in his pajamas and a black robe, which was haphazardly tied off to the side instead of at the front.  His hair was sticking out at odd angles, and when he turned to look at you, you saw the bags under his eyes.  He mumbled something to you that sounded vaguely like “morning” before turning back to his coffee pot, which, by that point, was almost full.

When the coffee was done brewing he got a mug out of the cabinet and poured himself a cup.  He then looked from you to the cup and then back to you, raising a questioning eyebrow but not saying a word.  You nodded slightly, under the impression that he was hopefully asking if you wanted some coffee.  He reached back up to grab a second mug, which he filled before setting it down on the counter of the kitchen island in front of you.  Mr. Skywalker glanced back and forth between you and the cabinet and then between you and the refrigerator before making an indiscernible grunt that you managed to interpret as “Do you want creamer or sugar?”

“Both,” you said quietly.  At that point you were almost afraid to disturb the silence than hung over the kitchen. 

He retrieved sugar from the cabinet and a bottle of creamer from the fridge, which he set down beside your mug along with a spoon he pulled out of a drawer.  You sat down on one of the stools at the island and stirred the things he had given you into your coffee.  He sat down next to you, and you noticed that he forwent the extras and drank his coffee black.  You wondered why he even had creamer if he didn’t use it, but perhaps he was just having a particularly rough morning.

Mr. Skywalker didn’t speak, and you didn’t do anything to encourage conversation.  You weren’t feeling particularly chatty yourself.  He finally said something coherent after his mug was empty, at which point he refilled it.

“So what are you doing up this early?” he asked groggily as he poured himself a second cup of coffee, which he also took black.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you told him.  “What about you?  Something tells me you don’t usually wake up at 4 A.M.”

“Luke had a bad dream in the middle of the night, so he came and woke me up,” he explained.  “I tucked him in and went back to bed, but I couldn’t ever fall asleep.”

“You look like you got run over by a truck.”

“I feel like it, too,” he confessed.  “I can’t believe there was a time in my life when I stayed up all night _on purpose_.  What was I thinking back then?”  You snickered, causing him to frown a bit.  “I guess I’m showing my age.  I promise I’m not as ancient as I sound.”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Skywalker.  I don’t think you’re old,” you assured him.

“Being called Mr. Skywalker makes me feel old.”

“Sorry, I’m still not used to calling you Anakin.  Either way, you aren’t really all that old, are you?” you asked, somewhat curious about his age.

“I’m old compared to you.”

You weren’t entirely sure why, but his words made you flinch.  For some reason, you didn’t like thinking about the age difference between the two of you, although it didn’t really affect you in any way.  Of course, it made perfect sense that there was a considerable gap between you.  He had children, after all.

“Not to pry, but how old are you exactly?” you inquired.

“Thirty-four,” he said, pouring a third cup of coffee.  Yeah, it was definitely a rough morning. “You just graduated from college – probably a four-year degree program – so that makes you… What?  Twenty-three?” he guessed.

“Twenty-two, actually, but it was a good guess,” you admitted.

“Like I told you before, I’m going to figure out your whole life story before you leave here.”  He grinned as he raised the mug to his lips, finally back in his usual high spirits. 

You caught yourself staring at him as he rifled through a few pieces of mail from the day before that were on the counter.  He looked at one letter for a particularly long time before setting it aside, still unopened.  You glanced at the front of it and could tell from the envelope that it was nothing but a magazine offer.  Looking a bit closer, though, you saw that it was addressed to Padmé Skywalker.  Trying to distract yourself from the thousand questions that began to flood your mind, you turned your attention to the next thing in his hand.

“You’re into cars?” you asked, gesturing to the magazine he was holding which featured a sports car on the cover.  The name on the address said _Anakin Skywalker or Current Resident,_ so you knew it must belong to him.

“Definitely.  Haven’t you seen what I drive?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” you smirked, “but I thought that was more of a lawyer money thing than a liking cars thing.”

“Well, I used to drive a Camaro, but that’s not exactly a family car.  I sure wasn’t going to drive a minivan, so I compromised a little bit.  It’s got every safety feature you can think of, so it’s good for kids, and it’s the best high-performance SUV on the market, so it’s good for me.  It’s really a win-win situation.”

“I’ll say.  So have you always liked cars?”  You weren’t particularly interested in vehicles yourself.  You mostly just wanted to learn more about Mr. Skywalker.  Plus, you had discovered that you liked the sound of his voice when he spoke.

“I always played with toy cars when I was little, and I wanted to be a racecar driver when I grew up.  I guess you can see how that turned out for me.  I worked for a mechanic when I started high school.  I mostly just cleaned up messes and organized inventory, but I was around cars all the time,” he told you, reminiscing.  “After I saved up my money and bought a car of my own, I started drag racing.  Stupid, I know, but it was fun and I was good at it.  I actually made quite a bit of money that way.”

You grinned and shook your head.  “I’m sorry, but I can’t really picture you drag racing.”

“Is it the one arm?” he inquired.  “Because I could probably still tear up a drag strip, given the opportunity.”

“Actually, it’s because I can only picture you in a suit,” you confessed.  “Although, that may change now that I’ve seen you in your pajamas.  It’s a good look for you, really,” you joked.

“I’m guessing you haven’t looked in a mirror this morning either,” he teased back.  “You don’t exactly look ready for a photoshoot yourself.”

You frowned and rubbed your fingers under your eyes.  No makeup came off, so at least you didn’t have mascara all over your face. You self-consciously attempted to smooth your hair down, but he caught you by the wrist.

“Relax, (Y/N).  I was just joking,” Mr. Skywalker said, regarding you with a soft expression.  “You look fine.”  When he realized that he had been holding your wrist for far longer than necessary, he released his grip and coughed nervously.  “Sorry about that.  I didn’t think about…”

“No, it’s okay,” you assured him, voice far off as you absently rubbed your wrist in the place where his hand had been, trying to recreate the feeling of warmth that his touch had brought.  He wasn’t making eye contact with you anymore, opting instead to stare into his coffee cup. 

“Really, I’m sorry,” he repeated, his concern evident from the unusually gentle tone he had taken.  “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Dude, you barely even touched me.  It’s seriously alright.  Are _you_ okay, though?  You look like you might throw up.”

“I’m just…” He was looking at you strangely, as if he had seen a familiar face in a grocery store and was trying to figure out how he knew you.  “I don’t know.  (Y/N)?”

“Yes?”

His eyes narrowed and he looked to the window, which was too fogged up to see through.  Being so early in the morning, it was also still dark.  Mr. Skywalker didn’t appear to care about what was going on outside, though.  It looked more like he was lost in thought.  

“Never mind,” he said, shaking his head and dismissing whatever thoughts had been going through his mind.  “It’s nothing.”

“Oh, okay then.”

“Sooooo… How are things with you?” he asked, clearly desperate to end the awkwardness that surrounded the two of you.

“Um, alright, I guess.”

“I apologize if I’m making you uncomfortable, (Y/N).  I don’t spend a lot of time with other adults outside of work,” he confessed.  “Most of the conversations I have on a daily basis are small talk with clients.  I talk to Ahsoka and Obi-Wan and sometimes Bail, but other than that, it’s usually just me and the kids.”

“I understand.  Wait, who’s Obi-Wan?” you asked.  You were curious to discover more details about Mr. Skywalker’s life, no matter how small or inconsequential.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi is my partner at the law firm.  He started out as a mentor of sorts, but we became friends, and now we’re practically brothers.  For some reason I don’t understand, though, Luke insists on calling him Ben.”

“Does he know that’s not his name, or…”

“He knows.  I’ve told him several times, but sometimes he even calls him Old Ben.”

“Is he old?”

“No, he’s in his forties.”

“That’s kind of old,” you said, apparently a little bit more bluntly than Mr. Skywalker had anticipated.  He actually laughed out loud at your statement.

“So forty is old, by your standards.  I guess that gives me six years to prepare for my retirement, then.  I’m looking forward to it.  I could move somewhere where it doesn’t get so cold.”

“You could get a home on the beach and watch exotic birds out the window,” you suggested, trying to conjure up the least likely scenario you could think of. “Maybe you could take up golf or learn to paraglide.”

“Ugh, never,” he grimaced.  “I hate the beach.”

“Oh, right.  I forgot about the sand thing.”

“Also, I don’t think paragliding is really for me.”

“Why not?” you asked.  “Are you afraid of heights or something?”

“Ah, no, not exactly.”  You saw his eyes dart quickly to the sleeve of his robe, which you realized was hanging rather loosely by his side.  His glance was almost too swift to notice, but you understood what he meant.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Mr. Skywalker said with a grin and a slight chuckle.  “It’s really not as touchy of a subject for me as everyone likes to think.  It can actually be pretty funny to watch people try and skirt around the subject.  It’s like everyone’s afraid of reminding me that I only have one arm, like maybe I haven’t noticed up until this point that a fairly significant chunk of my body is missing.  It’s more useful than you’d think to have a fake arm.  For example, my pranking potential has gone through the roof.  You can really throw people off guard by jabbing thumbtacks into your arm without flinching or even just leaving what looks like a severed limb lying around.”

“So, like, I don’t mean to sound rude, and you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but…”

He smirked and leaned a little closer, like he was about to tell you something confidential.  “Would you believe me if I told you I lost it in a duel?”

You scrunched your face up in disbelief.  “Sorry, not buying that one.”

“What about a bar fight?”

“You don’t really look like the type, so I don’t think I believe that one either.”

He leaned back in his chair with a sigh of feigned disappointment.  “I was afraid you wouldn’t.  Like I said before, I was into drag racing after I got my first car.  Also like I said before, that was a stupid thing to do.  I crashed the car, mangled my arm beyond repair, and had to have an amputation.”

You tried not to cringe visibly at the words “mangled beyond repair,” but the image that flashed across your mind was too disturbing not to cause you to flinch. 

“I wanted to get a cybernetic arm,” he explained, “but the technology just wasn’t there at the time.  Even now, it’s mostly just prototypes.  Also, they’re insanely expensive.  Sadly, my insurance doesn’t cover the pursuit to follow my dream of becoming the Six Million Dollar Man.  It’s a shame, really, because I think I’d look pretty good with a robot arm.  It would make me look powerful and mysterious, don’t you think?”

You knew he was just joking, but it seemed to you like powerful and mysterious were both words that already described Anakin Skywalker.  Granted, he didn’t _look_ particularly powerful.  He didn’t have a particularly imposing silhouette.  While he was rather tall, he was also quite slim – more lean than he was muscular.  There was something about his presence, though, that commanded a certain level of respect.  Despite his casual, joking demeanor, it wasn’t hard to take him seriously when the moment required it.  As for the mystery… Well, there was still a lot to learn about Anakin Skywalker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love to hear from you guys, so feel free to leave comments letting me know what you think or what you'd like to see in the future.


	7. Snowed In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your morning with the Skywalker family is full of surprises and revelations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare yourselves for the cringiest, most awkward chapter yet. Everybody's getting embarrassed to death this time!

“Bon appétit!” Mr. Skywalker said in the best French accent he could muster, which admittedly wasn’t very good, as he placed pancakes on a plate in front of each person who was seated at the kitchen counter.  The Skywalkers had a dining room, but the twins had informed you that they only ate there on special occasions.

“These are good,” you said after taking your first bite.

“That’s because of my secret ingredient,” he informed you with a raised eyebrow and sly smile.  “Want to know the secret?” He beckoned you to lean closer so he could tell you more confidentially, then said in an incredibly loud whisper, “It’s boxed pancake mix.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes.  You should have known.

“I actually have no clue how to make pancakes” he admitted.  “What’s even in them?  Flour, probably, I guess.  I’m perfectly happy to just add water and call it a day.”

“Do you want to know a real secret?” Leia asked you.  “Daddy said not to say so but he thinks you – “

“Haha! That’s enough now, Leia,” Mr. Skywalker quickly interrupted, laughing nervously. 

“But you said that (Y/N) –“

“Zip your lips,” he commanded, pointing his spatula in her direction.  “I said that’s enough.”

Leia returned to her pancakes with a pout.  You looked over at Luke, who had been silent up until that point.  His mouth was stuffed, and almost his entire face was covered in maple syrup.  Your gaze fell back upon Mr. Skywalker, who was still in his pajamas.  It was still somewhat disconcerting to see him out of his usual attire.  You had changed back into your clothes from the day before, planning to leave after breakfast.  You would still have time to go to your apartment and change clothes before work.

“I think I’ll check and see how the roads look,” he said, eager to extricate himself from another awkward moment caused by his children.  He slipped out of the kitchen, and you heard the sound of the front door opening.  After a moment, Mr. Skywalker came back and informed you sheepishly, “Well, I don’t have the best news.”

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“I think you should see for yourself.”

Looking out the front door, you could immediately see what the problem was.  Or, rather, you could hardly see anything at all.  Roads, yards, driveways – it all looked the same under the blanket of snow, which appeared to be almost two feet deep and getting deeper by the minute as snow and ice continued to fall from the sky.  There was no way you would make it to work, your apartment, or anywhere else.  You were snowed in.

“Well, it looks like I’m stuck here until the snow melts,” you informed everyone, sitting back down in defeat.

“Yay!” Luke shouted with a syrupy mouth.  “You get to stay longer!”

“How do you drink so much caffeine?” you asked as Mr. Skywalker poured himself another cup of coffee – his fourth of the morning by your count.  “Doesn’t it make you jittery?”

“I don’t normally drink this much,” he assured you.  “I only have more than one cup in the morning under dire circumstances.  If there’s anything I learned in law school, though, it’s how to caffeinate.  I’ll have to keep drinking coffee throughout the day to keep my energy up, but I basically have it down to a science.  If I stop at 4:30, I’ll crash at precisely 10:00 P.M. and be able to get a full night of rest to recover from my self-destructive coffee binge.  As for being jittery, I will admit that feel like I could run a marathon right now.  I also have the sudden urge to learn Brazilian jiu-jitsu, but that’s just a side-effect that means it’s working,” he said with a shrug.

“In that case, I’m sort of glad you won’t be driving me home.”

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best.  No one should be out with the road conditions like this, anyway.  I should call Ahsoka and tell her to stay at home,” he said, more to himself than to you.  “I don’t want her trying to drive.”

He wandered off to make a call, so you decided it would probably be best to take the opportunity to call in and say you wouldn’t be able to make it to work.  You rifled through your bag, which you had brought with you into the kitchen under the impression that you would be leaving after you ate, until you found your phone and huffed with disappointment when you discovered that the battery had died.  It wouldn’t normally have been much of an ordeal, but your charger was at home in your apartment.

“Yeah,” you heard Mr. Skywalker speaking into a cordless phone as he made his way back from wherever he had come from.  You knew he had a small office somewhere in the house, so you assumed that was where he had gone.  “Okay, see you later, Snips.”

“Whoa, you still use a landline?” you wondered aloud as he pressed a button to hang up the phone.  “Maybe you’re older than I gave you credit for.”

“It’s for work,” he sneered, stashing the phone in the pocket of his robe.  “Having a landline for business-related calls is supposed to be more professional.  Plus, it separates my work life from my personal life, and it would be weird to have a second cell phone that I only use at home to make calls.  It’s not like I just have a landline.  I have a cell phone, you know.  You even have my number,” he pointed out.

That was true.  You did have Mr. Skywalker’s cell phone number, but you rarely dialed it.  He called you occasionally to let you know if he got held up in court or something of that nature, and you had called him at work a couple of times.  When you were stranded in the snow might have been the only time you had called him on his cell, though. 

“Do you still have dial-up internet?” you asked teasingly.

“Very funny,” he mused sarcastically.

“So, do you guys usually eat pancakes this late on a weekday morning?”

“It’s usually more of a weekend thing, but since there’s nowhere to be – or at least no way to get there – I figured it was as good a time as any to let Luke bathe in maple syrup.”  He looked meaningfully at his son, who was repeatedly pinching his fingers together and then attempting to unstick them.

“Somehow I got the hint that this isn’t how a morning at the Skywalker house normally goes.”

“Yeah,” Leia pointed out, “Daddy usually sleeps in his underwear and just puts on a robe to make breakfast.”

“He’s wearing pants this morning,” Luke nodded in agreement.

You cast an eye over at Mr. Skywalker.  He was raking his hand down his face and appeared to also be holding his breath.  If he had been embarrassed the night before when Leia revealed that he thought you were pretty, it was nothing compared to the absolute mortification he was evidently experiencing at the moment.  He exhaled heavily, almost as if he were deflating rather than just breathing.

“There really aren’t any secrets in this house,” you observed.

“That’s for sure,” you heard Mr. Skywalker grumble.

“Well,” you informed him, “I, for one, appreciate the fact that you decided to wear pants.”

“Why?  Would this moment somehow be more awkward otherwise?”

*****

Later in the morning, you were playing with Leia, whose idea of a good time was to dress up like a princess and hold a mock committee meeting.  Mr. Skywalker was upstairs taking a shower, and you weren’t entirely sure where Luke had gone.  He was well-behaved on his own, though, so you weren’t especially concerned about him getting gup to mischief – although you were a bit worried that he still had syrup on his hands.

_THUD!_

Suddenly, a crash sounded from the stairs that made your heart drop.

You leapt to your feet to see what had caused the commotion, fear rising in your stomach at the thought of Luke lying injured at the bottom of the staircase.  Mr. Skywalker had apparently heard the noise as well because the sound of water running through the pipes abruptly halted.  The two of you reached the stairs at the same time, him at the top and you at the bottom.  You quickly averted your eyes when you saw that he was wearing nothing but a white bath towel, which he was clutching tightly around his waist with his left hand.  It was harder than you thought it would be to keep your gaze off of Mr. Skywalker.  He was gloriously under-clothed, water dripping off of him and rolling down every surface of his body.

“What happened?”

“Huh?” You were startled to attention by Mr. Skywalker’s words.  You had been gawking.

“What was that sound?  I thought one of the kids fell down the stairs.  Is everything alright?” His chest was heaving after his sprint from the bathroom, and you tried not to stare too intently.

“Uh,” you quickly tried to clear your head.  “I think Luke threw a basketball down the stairs,” you deduced, noticing a ball on the floor.  “Everything seems to be alright.”

Everything except the fact that Mr. Skywalker was dripping wet and wrapped in a towel, that is.

You couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from him.  It was such a new sight that you felt the need to take it in completely.  He was a little thinner than you had imagined (not that you had spent _that_ much time imagining what Mr. Skywalker would look like without a shirt, of course), but he looked strong.  He had defined abdominal muscles that tapered down to narrow hips, which were visible above the low-slung towel he was using to cover himself.  So much of him was exposed that you felt heat rising in your cheeks.

“I told you things couldn’t get more awkward even if I weren’t wearing pants.  I guess this disproves my theory.”  He looked incredibly uncomfortable, but he wasn’t moving.  He seemed to be rooted to the spot up at the top of the stairs.

“I… um,” you faltered, searching for something – anything – to say. “You…  I’m…" Then, much to your horror and Mr. Skywalker’s shock, you said three words that immediately made you regret opening your mouth.  “You… look good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, you guys probably want an answer to the smut question. Due to popular demand, I will be including smut. It will be easily skippable, though. I'm going to make sure it's placed after clearly marked page breaks and doesn't contain any major plot points, so the story will still be enjoyable for those who don't want to read the smutty parts. 
> 
> However, it won't be taking place for quite some time because no one's even in a relationship yet. In the distant future, though, you can count on some sexy times with Mr. Skywalker.


	8. Actions and Reactions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you begin avoiding Mr. Skywalker, he asks to speak to you. Alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the most feels-y chapter so far, but it isn't over-the-top or anything.

Any other conceivable reaction to your statement would have been better than what actually happened.  You braced yourself for humiliation, for him to inevitably become upset or laugh in your face.  He did neither.  Mr. Skywalker simply squinted at you in silence, as if he were trying to wrap his mind around what you had just said.  He opened his mouth to say something, but he seemed to think better of it.  Without making a sound, he turned and stiffly walked away. A moment later, you heard the sound of the shower turning back on.

He hadn’t said a word, hadn’t acknowledged what you had said.  You felt like you should have been relieved that he hadn’t tried to make a big deal out of it, but somehow this was worse.  He had given you a single clue as to what he thought of your comment.  Was he embarrassed? Disgusted? Both?

You couldn’t even consider the possibility that he had been flattered by your ill-advised compliment.  Surely he would have smiled and been receptive if he felt that way.  Contorted facial expressions and retreat were rarely signs that someone was comfortable with the events unfolding around them.  How could you have been so stupid?

You had been babbling nonsense and blurted out that you found Mr. Skywalker attractive.  He was a very handsome man, of course, but under normal circumstances you never would have admitted that.  You found him very admirable in general: kind, caring, humorous, intelligent.  He didn’t need to know that you thought all of those things, though.

You were stuck at the Skywalker house until the roads became passable, meaning that a conversation about what had happened was inevitable.  It was only a matter of time before you lost your job as the twins’ babysitter.  There was no way you would be welcomed back after your tragic mistake.

A large portion of your day was spent trying to avoid conversation with Mr. Skywalker.  You devised countless excuses to leave the room whenever he walked in, and you skipped lunch so as not to be in the kitchen at the same time as him.  Staying away from him was, frankly, a bit tiring.  Luckily, though, most of his day’s activities were taking place in his office, where he was working on an upcoming court case.

You were playing with the children in the living room when you heard the sound of approaching footsteps and quickly tried to come up with a reason to excuse yourself.  You couldn’t think of anything off the top of your head, having already used up all of your reasonable explanations earlier in the day.  Instead, you stood up and made to leave the room, but you misjudged where the footsteps were coming from.  You ran directly into Mr. Skywalker and fell directly onto your bottom.

“Sorry, are you alright?” he asked apologetically, reaching out his left hand to help you up. 

Your face flushed.  “I, um…  I…”

He frowned, realizing that you were too self-conscious to take his hand after the earlier events of the morning.  “(Y/N), I think there are some things we need to talk about, and it’s probably best if we speak alone without Luke and Leia listening.”

This was it – the moment you had been dreading.  You were being fired.  You tried to present yourself with as much dignity as you could muster as you picked yourself up off the floor and followed Mr. Skywalker to his office.

For the entirety of the time you had worked as the Skywalker twins’ babysitter, you had been under the impression that the slightly narrower than usual door off the kitchen led to a closet of some kind.  Upon entering it, you had a feeling that it really might have been one at some point in the past.  It was the tiniest office you had ever been in.  There was just enough room for a desk, a chair, and a shelf filled with law books.  The furniture was plain and functional, starkly contrasting with everything else in the house and fueling your theory that Mr. Skywalker had not been the one to do most of the decorating.

He gestured for you to sit down in the chair.  He himself sat against the edge of the desk, causing you to feel slightly trapped in the small space.  There was no way you were sneaking out of this encounter.

“(Y/N),” he began, “we need to talk about this morning.  As much as I would prefer not to bring it back up, you’ve been avoiding me all day.  Now, I don’t know for sure, but I can only assume that it has to do with what happened on the stairs.  Am I correct?”

You nodded.

“To be honest,” he continued, “I’m not entirely sure what to say right now.  I just…”  There was a long pause in which he exhaled heavily.  “I want things to not be uncomfortable between us since we see each other every day.”

“So… I’m not fired?” you asked hesitantly.

 “Why would I fire you?  The kids love you, and I don’t have a single complaint.  You haven’t done anything wrong, as far as I know.’”

“Oh,” you stated simply, staring blankly at him and trying your hardest not to blush as you recalled the way he had looked at the top of the stairs with water dripping off of the exposed planes of his body.

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me all day?  Because you thought I was going get rid of you?  If I did, that would be complete stupidity on my part.”  His voice suddenly became quieter.  “It’s been almost a year now since I lost Padmé. I never could have done this all on my own, and I don’t think that’s going to change.  I tried for a few months to do everything myself, and it was chaos.  When you came along, things got a lot easier.  At this point, you’re pretty indispensable.”

Mr. Skywalker wasn’t looking at you anymore.  His gaze was fixed on a photograph sitting on his desk.  It was a wedding photo, the only one in the house that wasn’t packed away in a box.  You wondered why this one wasn’t put away with the rest.  Not that there was anything wrong with a man having a picture from his wedding day.  It just struck you as odd that the only one that wasn’t in storage was in a room that only he usually entered.  It was as if all traces of his wife had been erased from the house except for in secret.

“I feel like Luke and Leia have dealt with this better than I have,” he confessed.  “As it turns out, I’m pretty horrible at the whole ‘moving on’ thing.  I wish there was some kind of instructional guide for how to deal with this sort of thing, but no one seems to have any real answers.  There are plenty of parenting books floating around, but there’s not a manual for how to raise two children on your own after your wife’s tragic death.”

You had suspected all along, but that was the first time he had ever said it aloud.  There had been little hints:  the fact that he had kept all of the pictures, the ring he still wore on his finger, and even the way he looked longingly at pieces of junk mail addressed to her.  His actions weren’t those of someone who had gone through a divorce or separation, they were those of someone who had experienced a great loss.

“If it’s any consolation, you’re doing a pretty great job,” you told him, not entirely sure what was appropriate to say in the situation. 

“Thanks.” It looked like he was trying to grin but couldn’t quite muster the will to do so.  “I would be doing a much better job if she were still here, though.  She was always better with the kids – with people in general, really – than I am.”

His thumb brushed absently over the scar that crossed the corner of his right eye.  You had wondered before if there was a story behind it, but now there was a feeling in the pit of your stomach saying that it had something to do with his wife.

His face was blank, and it was hard to judge his expression.  He was still staring at the photo, almost like he was afraid it would be gone if he looked away.  When he looked up, his gaze was more intense than you had anticipated, and his eyes were glistening like those of someone holding back tears.  You began to grow nervous.  What were you supposed to do if he cried?  You didn’t know how to react in the presence of another adult who was in tears, although his would be justified, all things considered.

With a quick shake of his head, though, the look faded.  He was back to his usual self, or at least close to it.  The expression on his face was not quite a smile but certainly far from a frown when he spoke again.

“I just want you to understand, (Y/N), how much I really need you.”

And while you hadn’t before, in that moment, you began to understand just how much you needed him too.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confirmed feelings for Anakin! This may be a slow burn, but the sparks are already flying.
> 
> As always, I love to get comments and feedback, so feel free to let me know what you think or what you want to see in the future.


	9. All the Reasons Why Not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You think about the reasons things could never work out with Mr. Skywalker, and the two of you have another uncomfortable encounter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, look! Things are awkward again.

It was harder than you thought to admit to yourself that you had developed a crush on Mr. Skywalker.  While you couldn’t come up with a good reason to feel embarrassed, you were a little bit ashamed about the intensity of your infatuation.  You were too old to be blushing over a boy, even if that boy was actually a thirty-four-year-old man.

Actually, that was part of the problem.  He was in his thirties, but you were only twenty-two.  That was a twelve year age difference, which was really a rather significant gap.  When he was graduating from high school, you were finishing kindergarten.  You were probably just starting middle school when he had gotten married, and the thought made you slightly uncomfortable.

 _It’s not that big of a deal,_ you told yourself, trying to justify your fixation.  _It’s not like he’s old enough to be my father or anything._

He was _someone’s_ father, though, which was another issue in itself.  In fact, he was the father of two someones.  You were in no position to have children, even if they weren’t really your children.  You loved Luke and Leia, but you couldn’t imagine becoming a parent anytime soon.  The kids were a major part of who Mr. Skywalker was.

There was another problem:  you still thought of him as Mr. Skywalker.  He had told you time and again that you could call him Anakin, but it still felt strange to refer to him by his first name.  Of course, you called him Anakin whenever you remembered to do so, but in your head, he was always Mr. Skywalker.  You couldn’t have a romantic relationship with a man you called by his last name.

In all honesty, you would probably never have a romantic relationship with him.  There were three distinct problems.  Number one: you could never tell Mr. Skywalker that you had developed feelings for him.  As much as you wanted to, you simply weren’t able.  You would never be able to find it in yourself to make the confession. Number two: there was no guarantee that he felt the same way about you.  In fact, it was more likely that he saw you as the helpful babysitter than as a potential lover.

Number three was the biggest obstacle of them all.  While Mr. Skywalker was technically single, until recently, he had been married.  That marriage had not ended by choice but by tragedy.  You realized it was highly unlikely that he was in any position to consider entering into a new relationship.  He had been in love.  You could tell the second you saw the photos stashed away in his closet that he had loved that woman more than anything in the world.  You had seen the longing in his eyes when he looked at her, as if she had been the only thing in the world that was really worth looking at.  That wasn’t the kind of love a person could forget about, even given time.

Your stay with the Skywalker family had lasted longer than you had imagined it would.  You had planned to leave first thing in the morning, but it took a while for the snow to melt enough for the roads to be passable.  You had to spend another night there before Mr. Skywalker could drive you to your apartment.  He insisted that you make yourself at home, but it felt strange to be there for so long. 

The most discomfort you felt during your stay was when you took a shower.  You had always felt weird about bathing at other people’s houses to begin with.  It seemed like no two people on the planet had showers that functioned in the same way.  There was always some odd way to turn on the water that you could never figure out and then the water pressure always seemed to be one extreme or the other.  Some people had the pressure set to trickle out in a delicate stream that never quite managed to rinse the shampoo out of your hair.  Other showers had the power to strip the paint off of a house.  This particular shower experience was uncomfortable for other reasons.

The awkwardness began when you had to announce your intent to shower to Mr. Skywalker.  While there was nothing wrong with taking a shower, the concept conjured memories of him standing at the top of the stairs wrapped only in a towel.

“Alright, there are two – the one in the upstairs hall bathroom and the one in my bedroom,” he informed you.  “There’s really no difference between the two functionally, but I would recommend the master bathroom because it all comes down to whether or not you want to wash your hair with bubblegum-scented shampoo and dry off with a little rocket ship towel.”

So, that was how you ended up naked in Mr. Skywalker’s bathroom.

As you tuned on the water and stepped into the shower, you became suddenly aware that the walls and door were made from completely transparent panes of glass.  You hoped you had remembered to lock the bathroom door because if someone were to walk in, they would get an eyeful.  You calmed down a bit when the glass began to fog up, giving you a greater sense of privacy, and you tried to convince yourself that it was foolish to feel exposed when you were alone in a closed room.

All of your usual apprehension about bathing in another person’s home began to melt away as the hot water poured over your skin.  You had no problems turning the shower on, and the water pressure was excellent.  The discomfort began to reappear when you picked up a bottle of shampoo to wash your hair.  Your eyes were closed as you massaged the soap into your scalp, but it struck you that the shampoo smelled so much like _him._   You became very aware of the fact that you were standing in the same place Mr. Skywalker did whenever he showered.

You tried not to picture him in the towel, dripping wet as he rushed to see what had caused the commotion on the stairs.  You only succeeded in imagining him without the towel, which did not help matters any.

You were drawn out of your daydreams by a knock on the door.

“(Y/N)?”  You were just barely able to hear the calling voice over the sound of running water.

“Yeah?” you hollered back, hoping you were loud enough to be heard.

“I was just wondering if you needed clothes to change into.”

That was something you hadn’t even considered.  You had been wearing the same clothes for almost two whole days, and you weren’t looking forward to putting them back on after getting out of the shower.

“Um, yeah!” you called out.  “I don’t have anything else to wear.”

You heard Mr. Skywalker say something else, but you couldn’t make out what it was. 

“What?”

More indiscernible speech followed.

“What did you say?”

Fed up with having to communicate through shouting, you shut off the water and wrapped yourself in a towel before opening the bathroom door.

“Huh?”

Mr. Skywalker’s sharp intake of breath indicated his surprise at the door opening and you standing in front of him.  His eyes widened, and he quickly fixed his gaze on an arbitrary point somewhere on the wall behind you before speaking.

“I… um… I was asking if you needed something to wear,” he explained.  “I didn’t know if you wanted something particular to put on, or…” He looked back at you, but he seemed to be having a difficult time keeping his eyes on your face and therefore chose to stare at the wall again.

You pulled the towel tighter around yourself, wondering if this was how he had felt when he was in such a similar position.  Your thoughts drifted to the picture that had been floating through your head before he had knocked on the door, and you blushed. 

“Anything’s fine, I guess,” you told him, looking down at the floor so you wouldn’t have to see the avoidance in his eyes.  It was almost humorous how much effort he was putting into not looking at you.  His innocent behavior was rather amusing considering his age. 

“Oh.  Okay, then.”  He stood there stiffly for a moment before turning abruptly on his heel and walking away. 

When he was gone, you dropped the towel and returned to the shower, contemplating the weight of what had just happened.  You realized that you had both seen each other without clothing that day.  When you were finished bathing, you dried yourself off and covered yourself with the towel again.  Tentatively, you cracked open the bathroom door and peered out to see a pile of clothes stacked neatly on the floor just outside the door.  You glanced around the bedroom looking for Mr. Skywalker and thankfully did not see him.

You pulled on the clothes quickly, glad to have something clean to wear.  There was a bit of a problem, though, with one of the garments.

“Um… Mr. Skywalker?” you inquired hesitantly, knocking on the door of his office-slash-closet.  You had the towel wrapped around your shoulders, and while it was making the shirt you wore damp, covering yourself lent you some notion of modesty that you would not have otherwise had.

“Come in,” he said from inside.  When you walked in he removed a pair of glasses you didn’t realize he wore and reminded you, “You don’t have to call me Mr. Skywalker.”

“Right.  I don’t mean to impose, but is there like… a different shirt I could wear, maybe?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“One that’s a little bigger,” you clarified.  Apparently, the pajamas that fit you had been a fluke.  It seemed that Mrs. Skywalker had not preferred her daytime clothes to be as loose as what she wore to sleep.  The pants were alright, but the shirt was uncomfortably tight, and you had barely been able to get it on.  The only reason you had even bothered to squeeze into it was to be able to walk downstairs with some of your dignity intact.  Even then, the tightness of the shirt was so revealing that you felt the need to cover yourself with a towel.

He thought for a moment, as if considering whether or not there was something in a larger size.  “I think that can be arranged.”

You followed him upstairs and waited as he dug around in the closet until he emerged with something made of black material in his hand.  He tossed the apparel in your general direction.  You snagged it out of the air before it hit the ground and held it out to view.  You couldn’t help but smile when you saw what it was.

When you pulled the plain black men’s t-shirt over your head, you discovered that it smelled remarkably like him.  Actually, it mostly smelled like laundry detergent, but under that there was a lingering scent that couldn’t be completely washed away.  It reminded you of when you fell asleep on Mr. Skywalker’s shoulder and was reminiscent of cologne and something naturally masculine. 

As you cuffed the sleeves so they wouldn’t swallow your arms, you lamented the fact that you would eventually have to take it off.  It was then that you realized you were in _way_ over your head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, everyone's favorite sassy bearded Jedi Master will be making an appearance in the next chapter, and of course, more discomfort will ensue for everyone.
> 
> As always, feel free to leave comments letting me know what you think.


	10. Of Duels and Disclosure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You meet someone new. A duel takes place. Assumptions are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, here's that Obi-Wan chapter I've been promising forever. It's fluffy as heck and full of canon references. Enjoy!

Surprisingly, things between you and Mr. Skywalker went back to normal after the second shower incident.  There was no longer any avoidance, and all of the general awkwardness the two of you expressed around each other returned to more manageable levels.  Overall, you were glad that the discomfort seemed to have faded away, unlike the infatuation for him that you had developed.  You just wondered how the crush was going to affect your job.

One Friday afternoon, you were sitting in the living room where Leia was playing pretend that she was a princess and Luke was constructing a sword out of paper and far more tape than was really necessary.  From what you could understand of Leia’s little game, she seemed to be imagining that she was on a mission to get plans to blow up a space ship.  Not a typical little girl’s princess fantasy, you noted, but definitely typical for Leia.

“They’re all done!” Luke exclaimed, holding out his finished product.  It was essentially just a stick made out of rolled up paper, but it was rather well-crafted for something made by a four-year-old.  He had used blue construction paper for the blade of the weapon and black for the handle.  You realized that while you had been enthralled with Leia’s game, he had actually made three of the swords – two blue and one red.  He must have run out of blue paper before he got finished.  “There’s one for each of us,” he explained.

You were just about to take the sword Luke offered you when there was a knock at the front door.  That was strange.  It was highly unusual for someone to be knocking.  If it were Mr. Skywalker, he would have just walked in.  It was his house after all.  No one ever came by to visit while you were there, so who could it be?

You opened the door to see a man in a suit.  He had light hair and a short, well-groomed beard.  In his hands was an enormously thick file folder that looked like it could rip at any second.

“Oh, hello,” he said, surprising you with an unexpectedly accented voice.  “You must be (Y/N).”

“Um, yeah.”  You furrowed your brow, somewhat concerned that this stranger knew your name.

Leia appeared suddenly behind you and squealed, “Obi-Wan!”  She ran forward and jumped up into his arms.  He staggered a little under her weight but held her anyway.

“Hello there, Leia.”

“That’s _Princess_ Leia to you,” she told him smugly, obviously not going to let her game be interrupted by the man’s unexpected arrival.

“I’m sorry.  Hello there, Princess Leia.” The man directed his attention back to you.  “Anakin is in court today, and he accidentally left this file at the office.  He needs to go through it over the weekend, but he won’t be stopping back by the firm on his way home, so he told me just to drop it off here.”

“Oh, alright then,” you mumbled, still a little confused.

“I’m Obi-Wan Kenobi,” he explained, “as in Kenobi and Skywalker: Attorneys at Law.”

“Oh!  Sorry about that.  I didn’t realize.”  Looking at him now, you criticized yourself for not recognizing him.  You had seen his picture when you were searching through the closet before the big snowstorm.  “Come on in, Mr. Kenobi.”

“You can just call me Obi-Wan,” he told you.

“Old Ben!” Luke shouted when he saw Obi-Wan.  “Wanna play laser swords?”

“Of course!  Just let me put this folder in your father’s office.”

He set Leia back down gently on the floor and disappeared, returning just a moment later without the file in his hands.  With a dramatic flourish, he let his suit jacket drop to the floor behind him and graciously accepted a sword from Luke. 

“Ah, the weapon of a gentleman,” he mused, examining the blue paper sword with high regard.  “Shall we duel?”

He and Luke began their battle, ducking and dodging all around the living room, while Leia continued to play space princess off to the side of the room.  Everyone was so engrossed in the swordfight that they almost didn’t hear the front door creaking open.

“What’s going on here?” Mr. Skywalker asked, hanging up his coat. Luke and Obi-Wan exchanged a knowing glance before both rushing towards him.  “Quick, (Y/N)!  Throw me the other sword,” he told you, pointing at the red one.

Obligingly, you tossed it in his direction, somewhat impressed by his seamless one-handed catch.  Mr. Skywalker brandished the weapon in front of him, looking threateningly at his adversaries. 

“Join me, Luke,” he told his son.  “Together we can defeat Obi-Wan.”

“But you’re the bad guy,” Luke pointed out. “We’re trying to save the galaxy.”

“No, I am your father,” he told his son ominously.  “Together we will be strong.”

“Never!” Luke shouted, going in for the attack.

Seated on the couch, you smiled as you watched them dueling.  Anakin Skywalker certainly had a flair for the dramatic, jumping wholeheartedly into his role as the villain.  At one point, he knocked the sword out of Obi-Wan’s hand and held his own weapon up menacingly.

“If you strike me down,” Obi-Wan told him, “I’ll become more powerful than you can possibly imagine.”

Mr. Skywalker didn’t heed the warning and struck him with the sword.  Actually, he just barely tapped the end of it against Obi-Wan’s chest, but the reaction was much more dramatic.  Obi-Wan collapsed to the floor, and Luke cried out, “Nooooooooo!”

Now the duel was only between father and son – a battle of good versus evil. 

“Oh no!” Luke exclaimed when Mr. Skywalker’s sword touched his wrist.  “You cut off my hand!”  He disappeared behind the couch for a second before popping back up.  “It’s okay.  I got it replaced with a robot hand.”

The fight resumed, Luke gaining an edge on his father.  You continued to watch as Luke whacked his sword against Mr. Skywalker’s right arm.

“Now I cut off your hand,” Luke announced.  Mr. Skywalker unbuttoned the cuff of his sleeve and pulled off his prosthetic limb, tossing it to the side, where it landed on the floor in front of you.  You had to give him props for realism.  Now with the advantage, Luke took the lead and cornered his father. 

“This is your last chance, Luke.  If you join me, we can rule the galaxy together as father and son.”

“Or,” Luke considered, “you can join me on the good guy side and we can save the galaxy together.”

"That sounds like a pretty good plan to me," his father admitted. "We can both be good guys.”

Father and son laid down their weapons and shook hands.  Obi-Wan took that as his cue to finally get up off the floor.  He dusted himself off and sat down at the other end of the couch from you.

“Anakin,” he said, “I left that file in your office so you can go over it this weekend.”

“Thanks, I should probably make sure it’s all there before you leave,” Mr. Skywalker informed him.  “I’ll go take a look. Oh, (Y/N),” he added, “can you throw me my arm? Thanks.”

You picked the appendage up off the floor and tossed it to him.  _Can you throw me my arm?_ was still a strange sentence to hear, but seeing the prosthetic laying around had stopped freaking you out.  He caught it the same way he had grabbed the paper sword and nodded his gratitude.

When Mr. Skywalker had wandered off to his office, Obi-Wan turned his attention to you.  “So, I’m finally meeting the woman I’ve heard so much about.  Might I say that you’re just as beautiful as Anakin always says you are.”

His statement caught you off guard.  If Mr. Skywalker was in a habit of speaking about you to others, it was news to you.  He made it sound like it was a common occurrence.  Furthermore, it meant that Mr. Skywalker apparently had a strong positive opinion about your physical appearance.  You tried not to think too much about it, but you found yourself in shock once more when Obi-Wan asked you a question.

“I don’t mean to pry, but how long have you and Anakin been together?”

Your face paled.  “Excuse me?”

“I was just wondering how long he’s been keeping this a secret.  He does that, you know.  He’d been married for almost a year before I found out he had even been dating Padmé.  I don’t understand him sometimes.”

“What? Mr. Skywa— Anakin,” you corrected yourself, “and I aren’t a couple.” _Unfortunately,_ you thought.

“Oh,” it was his turn to be surprised.  “I really thought… He just talks about you _all the time_.  I guess I shouldn’t have assumed, but I was under the impression that the two of you had been an item for some time now.  He always kept his relationship with Padmé so quiet that when he started talking about you it just made sense to me that… Well, I guess it’s not important what I think about it.”

“I can hear what you’re talking about,” Leia announced, “and I think Daddy is in love with (Y/N), but he doesn’t want to get married to her.  I asked him if he thought she was pretty and nice and smart, and he said yes.  I even asked him if he thought she would be a good mommy, and he said probably someday.  Then I asked him if she could be _our_ mommy, and he said probably not.  When I asked why, he said it’s ‘cause she’s too young.  I don’t think she’s too young though.  She’s a grownup like Daddy, so I think they should go ahead and get married.”

You felt your cheeks getting hot as Leia spoke.  As much as you were flattered that Mr. Skywalker thought so highly of you, it cut through you like a knife that he thought you were too young.  It had been a concern of yours, but to hear it voiced aloud hurt.  Of course you were too young for him.  What had you been doing entertaining the notion of a relationship with a man so much older than yourself?

“Leia,” Mr. Skywalker’s stern voice sounded from the doorway where he stood and had apparently been long enough to overhear what she said. “I told you not to repeat any of that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whaaaaaaaat?!  
> Things are gonna be weird now.


	11. A Long Overdue Discussion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you start behaving strangely, Mr. Skywalker takes notice. The two of you sit down to have a serious conversation that you have been deeply dreading.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've liked things so far, I think you'll be pleased with this chapter. Enjoy!

It wasn’t a conscious endeavor, not really.  You hadn’t even realized you were doing it for quite some time.  When you did notice, though, there was no question about your subconscious motives.  You had started putting more effort into your appearance than normal, clearly in the hopes that a certain someone might take notice.  You told yourself it was foolish to change yourself for a man, even if that man was incredibly attractive in every conceivable way.  You weren’t _really_ changing yourself, though, and part of you longed to impress him.

It was senseless, however, because you darted out the door as soon as humanly possible every time Mr. Skywalker came home from work.  It had worked for a few days.  He would come in and say hello, and you would immediately grab your things and rush to your car while he called out after you, “Wait, we really need to talk!”

He was right.  You _really did_ need to talk.  However, you were going to put off that conversation as long as humanly possible.  You were far from content as you were, silently admiring Mr. Skywalker, but it sure beat having your dreams crushed outright.  You weren’t sure which was worse, rejection or the anticipation of rejection.

He could have called you.  Deep down, you sort of wished he would.  Then again, you found it unlikely that you would answer the phone if his name flashed across the screen.  You guessed that he probably realized the same thing. 

It had started on that first day.  Mr. Skywalker had reprimanded Leia for telling you about the things he had admitted at her prompting.  You had immediately grabbed your things and left.  Your escape plan worked for three days.  On the fourth day, Mr. Skywalker wised up and stood in front of the door, effectively blocking your exit.

“(Y/N), I’m serious about this.  We need to talk.”

“About what?” you asked, feigning innocence.  You knew exactly what he wanted to talk about.

“Don’t play dumb,” he told you, shaking his head in disdain.  “This isn’t a joke, and it’s gone on long enough.  You can’t avoid me forever.”

“I don’t know about that.  I was doing a pretty good job of it.”

“Stop joking about this.”  His voice was serious, stern.  It was a tone he had never taken with you before, and you hoped he would never use it again.  It reminded you of the way someone would reprimand a small child.  In fact, that was probably _exactly_ how he reprimanded his small children.  The thought made you feel small and insignificant.

“Alright,” you agreed quietly.  “Alright, I guess we can talk.”

He heaved a sigh of relief.  Apparently, he thought it would be much more difficult to convince you.  In reality, it never took much for him to convince you of anything.  You weren’t sure if it was because he was a lawyer, he was naturally persuasive, or you were just far too eager to please him. 

“Luke. Leia. Upstairs.”  His words were clipped, his voice still more assertive than you were used to.  Was this what he sounded like in court?  There was a funny feeling in the pit of your stomach that you realized might be fear.  The kids obeyed, unshaken by his grave demeanor.

“Take a seat,” he commanded.  You shuddered, and you hoped the reaction had not been noticeable.  When you remained standing where you were, his voice softened. “I’m not moving away from the door until you take a seat.  You’re not running off again.  We need to talk.”

You wondered how many more times you were going to hear those four words.  Reluctantly, you sat down on the couch.    

“Are you okay?” he asked as he sat down. You were surprised when he didn’t take a seat at the opposite end of the sofa but rather right next to you.  “You don’t look so good. Well… You do look good, but not in the sense of… What I mean is that you look like you’re about to throw up.”

“I kind of feel like it,” you mumbled.

“I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable.  I want you to know that.  I just think it’s time we both start acting like adults and put everything out on the table. Does that sound okay to you?”

“I guess so.”  Your response was void of enthusiasm.

“We can’t avoid each other every time we get into a compromising situation, which seems to happen a lot.”

“That’s for sure.”

“So, Obi-Wan told me that he mistakenly assumed that you and I are in a relationship and told you as much.  Apparently, I gave him that impression, although I never intended to.  I don’t want you to think that I’ve been telling anyone that we’re romantically involved.”

“I understand,” you said.  “It’s not your fault. You can’t always help how other people interpret what you say.”

“Speaking of that, I also think it’s important to address what Leia said the other day.  It was the same as what happened before – you know, when she told you I think you’re pretty.  She was asking me those questions, so I answered them.  I didn’t think she was going to tell you what I said.  That doesn’t justify the fact that I ever told her those things to begin with, but I hope you’re not under the impression that I just told her all of that for no reason.”

“So, what she said – those were all your words?”

“More or less,” he admitted.  “They aren’t direct quotes, but it was a fairly accurate paraphrase.”

“And your only objection is age?” you asked without a single thought as to what you were saying.

“Well, I…” he paused, furrowing his brow in confusion.  “What?”

“You said I’m too young for you.  Was that the only reason?”

“I didn’t say anything against you, if that’s what you’re implying,” he assured you.  “I have a pretty high opinion of you, (Y/N).  I’m not in the habit of searching for your flaws.”

“But that was the only reason you could come up with?”

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

“The only problem you saw was that I’m too young for you?” you urged.

“I think my exact words were that I’m too old for you, but—”

“You’re not,” you blurted out, interrupting him.

“Excuse me?” There was shock written all over his face, and you clapped a hand over your mouth, as if the action could perhaps retroactively prevent the words from ever coming out of your mouth.

“I said you’re not,” you whispered, uncovering your mouth.  If you couldn’t undo what you had done, you could at least put your sudden burst of confidence to good use.  “Too old, that is – you’re not.”

“That’s nice of you to say, but it’s not necessary to—”

“That’s not how I meant it,” you told him.  You were beginning to babble, and your brain wasn’t entirely in control of what was coming out of your mouth.  You were spouting nonsense at a constantly accelerating rate, your voice getting louder as you went. “Not like you’re not old –  even though you aren’t – like you’re not too old _for me_.  And not in a friendly way, in the other way.  And I don’t want you to think I’m too young for you because then you’ll look at me like a child, and that’s the last thing I want because I want you to see me as a grown woman.  That way, maybe I could have a chance with you, even though that’s kind of childish in itself.  I even thought that if I started dressing up a little bit that maybe you’d notice and think I was more mature, and I don’t…  I just… I can’t… You’re not…”

You stopped to take a large raspy breath.  Your speech had been speeding up with every word, and you hadn’t paused for air in between sentences. Your hands were shaking and your chest was heaving as you tried to resume your rant, still unsure of what you were actually saying, but feeling the pressing need to say it nonetheless.

“Shhhh,” Mr. Skywalker hushed you, pulling you against his chest when he saw the tears beginning to well up in your eyes.  “Shh, you’re okay.”

Instead of calming you, his actions fueled the tears, which began to stream steadily from your eyes.  It was such a paternal gesture that it made you sick at your stomach.  You felt like a small child because you knew this was precisely how he would hold Leia or Luke if either of them got upset.  It was the exact opposite of how you wanted him to treat you.  He clearly thought of you like one of his kids, which was worse than anything you had imagined him feeling. 

You choked out a pathetic sob, and he squeezed you tighter, which probably should have made you feel better but didn’t.  It was the worst possible position to be in.  You had just admitted your feelings to the man you were infatuated with, and he responded by treating you like a sad child.  In a less cruel world, you would have at least been able to run away after your confession.  Instead, you were in the arms of the very person from whom you wanted to hide.

He let out a slight chuckle, before saying softly, “I didn’t realize.  If I’d have known, we could have skipped over all this awkward stuff.  This whole time I was afraid you thought I was just some creepy older man trying to hit on you.  I didn’t think you were interested in me.  I didn’t think you _could_ be.  I never considered that you might feel the same way.”  There was another short laugh.  “Even now it seems a little far-fetched.”

 _Feel the same way._ That didn’t mean… 

It couldn’t. 

Could it?

“Mr. Skywalker?” you said hesitantly, pulling away from him so you could look at his face.

“Anakin,” he corrected, gazing into your eyes, his voice low and breathing heavy.  “From now on, always call me Anakin.”

Your heart began to beat faster when you tentatively reached out a hand to touch the side of his face.  His skin was smooth, clean-shaven, and soft against your fingers.  You watched his eyes close and lips part slightly as he leaned into your touch.  You discovered yourself moving closer and closer until the tips of your noses were almost touching.  You were so near now that it would be easy, so easy to just…

“Daddy, can we come back downstairs now?” Luke called from the top of the stairs.

You and Mr. Skywalker… No, you and _Anakin_ broke apart.  You still felt breathless from the tension that had been rapidly building between the two of you.

“Um, yeah, I guess,” Anakin replied.  You had never heard him sound so unsure of himself, but as you sat there side by side, you became perfectly sure of one thing.

Everything was about to change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!  
> Things are happening!  
> I built this up for what felt like forever. Was it worth the wait? Just so you know, big things are in store for the future.   
> Also, sorry not sorry for crushing your dreams with the almost-kiss at the end. I'm just devious like that.


	12. Making Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things pick up where they left off for you and Mr. Skywalker. If only the two of you could get a moment to yourselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for going months without an update. I took an unexpected hiatus, but I'm back on the horse now.

You quickly learned something that came as a total surprise:  Anakin Skywalker was terrible at romance.

He didn’t do anything wrong in particular.  He just seemed to be particularly inept when it came to matters of courtship.  You decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, considering that, being married for several years, he hadn’t been in a dating relationship for quite some time.  You didn’t understand, though, how someone normally so confident and suave could turn into a bumbling idiot at the first mention of romance.  It was as if everything he knew about social interaction was thrown out the window the second you admitted your feelings to him.

First of all, he didn’t seem entirely comfortable touching you.  The night you had fallen asleep on his shoulder hadn’t phased him in the least, but now he apologized for things as small as his hand brushing against yours.  It was maddening because you wanted nothing more than for him to kiss you.

The day you had both shared your true feelings had been the closest you had ever come to kissing him.  Since then, your lips had never been in such close proximity.  You suspected that he shared your desire to do so, but you hadn’t yet had a moment alone together.  In fact, the two of you hadn’t even been on a proper date.

Very little had changed since the two of you became… Well, you weren’t entirely sure what to call whatever it was that you were.  You had confessed your mutual attraction, but nothing seemed to have come of it.  You stayed a little later after he got home from work.  You caught him looking at you more than before.  Of course, there was also the understanding that both of you wanted to be in a relationship together.  Other than that, though, everything was the same.

Every day, you picked the twins up from day care and watched them until their father got home from work.  Then, you went home, just like you had always done before.  One day, though, when you were about to leave, Anakin stopped you.

“Are you in a hurry?” he asked.

“No, not in particular,” you told him.

“Great, can I talk to you for a minute, then?”  When you nodded your response, he continued, “You know how we talked about… You know… Well, you haven’t changed your mind, have you?”

“No, of course not,” you assured him.

“Well, in that case, would you like to go to dinner with me on Saturday night?”  His posture was unnaturally stiff as he spoke, and he seemed incredibly nervous. 

Finally!  After all the time spent waiting, he was finally asking you to go out on a date with him.

“Yeah, of course.  I’d love to.”

Anakin exhaled a sigh of relief, and you saw his shoulders relax.  Had had he thought you were going to turn him down?  “Okay, great.  I already talked to Ahsoka, and she can watch the kids the kids that night, so you and I can do the whole ‘date’ thing.”

“Alright.”

“Just so you know,” he added, “it’s been awhile since I’ve… been on a date.  Really, it’s been years.  I was in high school the last time I did this.”

“You haven’t been on a date since high school?” you asked him incredulously, realizing only after speaking that what you said might have been a bit rude. “But you were married.”

“I’ve been on dates since high school,” he said defensively.  “It’s just that all of them were with the same woman.  Padmé is the only person I’ve ever been in a relationship with, and I married her.  Everything I know about dating is very specific to the one case.”

“Oh, I see.  Well,” you tried to come up with something helpful to say, “just think of this as a chance to learn something new.  You get to try the dating thing all over again.”

“I guess,” Anakin replied with a sad smile, and you realized that it was foolish to think that he was eager to be dating again.  He didn’t want to be doing this at all.  Well, to some degree he did.  He was attracted to you and was keen on pursuing a relationship, but under more ideal circumstances, he wouldn’t be dating anyone at all.  He would be happily married and raising a family with his wife.  In fact, under more ideal circumstances, the two of you never would have met in the first place.  It was difficult to admit to yourself that the thought stung a little bit.

“Oh god,” you mumbled apologetically.  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“It’s okay,” he assured you. “Don’t worry about it.  So, I guess I’ll see you Saturday night. I mean, I’ll also see you every day before then too because today’s… what? Today’s Tuesday? Yeah, it’s Tuesday. But you get what I’m trying to say.”

You grinned at him, amused by how flustered he was getting as he spoke to you.  In all of your past experiences, you had always been the awkward fidgety one when it came to dates, but it looked like Anakin Skywalker was poised to outdo you this time.  He smiled back at you – a toothy, contagious sort of smirk that made you laugh. 

“So, how is this whole thing going to go down?” you asked.  “What time? Where? Are we going to meet somewhere?  Are you going to pick me up?  Am I going to pick you up?  What did you have in mind for all of this?”

“We can meet here and then I’ll drive,” he suggested.  “Does six o’clock work for you?”

“Yeah, that sounds good to me.”

“Great!  How do you feel about Italian food?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Okay, so… Saturday. Six. Here.”

“For our date,” you added unnecessarily, prompting him to smile at you again.  You made a mental note to make him smile more often.  “See you tomorrow, Anakin.”

As you turned to leave, he caught you by the wrist, effectively stopping you in your tracks.  There was a look in his eyes akin to longing, and the strange churning that began in your stomach as he pulled you slightly closer to him gave you the distinct feeling that he was about to kiss you.  For some reason you didn’t understand, the thought scared you a little bit.  You took comfort in the fact that he looked just as nervous as you and gained the confidence to take another step towards him.

Was it your heartbeat or his that was echoing so loudly in your ears?  The hand that had been around your wrist moved down ever so slightly so that Anakin held your hand in his.  You were so close to him now, so close.  All you had to do was tilt your head and your lips would be on his.  So close.

“Daddy!” a little voice called out from the next room.  “Daddy, come here quick!”

Anakin reluctantly pulled himself away from you with a sigh, giving your hand a gentle squeeze before saying, his voice barely louder than a whisper, “See you tomorrow, (Y/N).”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, let me know what you think! I love seeing your comments, and I try to respond as quickly as possible. Again, sorry for the unannounced break. I'm back with an update. You can also expect an update on Cats and Commands in the near future, as well as a new First Order oneshot I have in the works.


	13. New Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A ballgame is interrupted by an unfamiliar intruder, and the twins make two new friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha! Joke's on you, suckers! I left you with another almost-kiss, and Anakin isn't even in this chapter at all. Okay, I'm just kidding about you all being suckers, but I was not kidding about the no Anakin thing. He's not even mentioned in this chapter, but two new characters will be introduced, and I think you'll be happy to see them. I think you can guess who from the updated tags.
> 
> (Also, in case anyone was wondering, this is still before the date. I wouldn't skip that. I'm not that cruel.)

The twins were all bundled up in their winter coats.  The snow had melted, but the air was still bitterly cold.  They had insisted on going outside for reasons you couldn’t understand.  They told you that it was imperative that they play in the front yard or their game wouldn’t work right.  Dressed in several layers of clothing yourself, you joined them in some sort of ball game they appeared to be making up as they went along.  The rules seemed to change as the game progressed, and you could never quite keep up with what you were supposed to do.  Luke and Leia seemed to have a firm understanding of the gameplay, though, and they were having a great time, which was all that really mattered.

Leia was standing on the front stoop, which was serving as some sort of makeshift pitcher’s mound.  At least, that was what you had gleaned from the ever-evolving rules.  You made sure to keep your distance, the injury from the last time Leia pitched a baseball still fresh in your memory.  Luke was standing on the sidewalk, facing the street with his back to his sister.  That made you a little nervous.  Something in the pit of your stomach told you that Luke was probably going to end up with a big bruise on the back of his head.

Leia threw the ball up in the air as high as it could go.  It hit the roof and rolled off onto the sidewalk, bouncing three times before Luke turned around and deftly caught it mid-bounce.

“No points!” Leia announced.

“That’s no fair!” Luke argued.  “I got the ball.  That should be a point.”

“But it bounced three times,” Leia explained.  “If it bounces more than once, and then you catch it, you don’t get a point and the point goes to (Y/N).”

“Oh, you’re right,” Luke nodded in agreement, as if everything Leia said had made perfect sense.  He turned to you and smiled.  “That means you’re winning, (Y/N).”

How that had come to pass, you had no idea.  You didn’t even know what the game was, let alone how to play it, and somehow you had taken the lead.  Apparently, you had done it fair and square, despite the fact that you understood precisely none of the extremely unstable rules.

Luke resumed his position facing the street and Leia threw the ball in the air again.  It bounced once on the ground before being caught, but the points did not go to Luke.  That’s because Luke was not the one who caught it.

Before the ball could bounce a second time, it was snatched out of the air by an enormous shaggy dog.  The dog excitedly wagged its tail and returned the ball to Leia before eagerly squatting down to wait for her to throw it again.  Clearly very amused by the events that were transpiring, Leia threw the ball again and again.  Each time, the big dog brought it back to her.  It was such a spectacular game of fetch that Luke had to join in as well.  Since it was most practical to have only one person throwing the ball, he joined in as a fetcher, racing against the dog in a cacophony of barks and little boy laughs for possession of the baseball.  The dog was much faster than Luke, but sometimes boy managed to outrun beast.  You could almost have sworn that on those occasions the dog was letting Luke win.

After a while, you heard a child’s voice calling down the street, and a little boy just a couple of years older than the twins came into view, strolling down the sidewalk and yelling, “Chewie!  Chewie! Where are you, boy!”

The dog’s ears perked up, and he ran off in the direction of the shouts, taking the ball with him.  The twins cried out in protest, chasing after him.  You followed behind them at a distance, ready to intervene if necessary.

“There you are Chewie!” the boy exclaimed as the dog ran towards him.  “What’ve you got, boy?  Whose ball did you take?”

“It’s ours,” Luke told the child.  “We were playing fetch.”

“Well, Chewie likes it, so it’s his now,” the boy said with an impish grin, pushing his hair out from in front of his eyes.

You almost stepped in and demanded the boy give the ball back, but you knew he was just joking, and you wanted to give the twins a chance to work things out on their own.

“Listen, mister,” Leia announced very authoritatively.  “That’s our ball, and we were playing fetch with the dog.  If your dog gets to keep the ball because he likes it, we should get to keep the dog because we like him a whole lot.  Right, Luke?”

“Right,” her partner-in-crime agreed.

“Alright,” the boy said with a scowl, taking the ball from Chewie’s mouth and handing it to Leia.  “I was just kidding.  Here’s your ball, your highness.”

“My name isn’t ‘your highness,’” she told him.  “It’s Leia.”

“Alright then, Princess Leia,” he teased.

“I’m Luke!” Luke piped up, eager to be included in the conversation.

“I’m Han,” the boy said, wiping the dog slobber off of his hand and onto the fleece vest he was wearing in place of a coat before offering it to Luke for a handshake and then to Leia, who turned her nose up at him and refused to touch him.  You were amused at the formality of the introductions.  “I’m new.  I just moved in down the street.  This is Chewbacca, but I call him Chewie for short.”

“I like Chewie,” Luke announced.  “He’s a friendly dog.  Did you teach him all those tricks?”

“Some of them,” Han informed him.  “He already knew some of them when I found him.  He used to be someone else’s dog, but they didn’t want him anymore so they got rid of him.  Now he’s my dog, and we’re really good friends.  He can come over and play sometime if you want, but we have to go home now before it gets dark.  See ya later! Come on, Chewie.”

“I like him,” Luke declared after Han left.

“I don’t,” Leia mumbled.  “He’s a meanie, and he called me Princess Leia.  Only Daddy calls me Princess.  When Daddy says it, it sounds nice.  When Han says it, it sounds like he’s trying to be mean to me.”

“I think you should give him a chance, Leia,” you told her.  “You just met him, after all.  Maybe he was just nervous to be meeting new people.  He might not be mean all the time.  If he is, you don’t have to be friends with him.”

“I’m going to be friends with him,” Luke said very assuredly.  “We’re going to go on adventures and have fun.  Then, we’re going to be best friends forever.”

“I’m sure you will, Luke,” you said with a grin, always amused with his friendly nature and eagerness to meet new people.  “I’m sure you will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Chewie, we're home."
> 
> I hope you guys loved reading this chapter as much as I loved writing it because HAN & CHEWBACCA ARE IN THE STORY! AAAHHHHHH! I'm so excited about this. I've been waiting for the right time to introduce them into the plot, and the time is now.
> 
> Comments are always appreciated. Don't be afraid to let me know what you think or even just say hi.


	14. I Scream, You Scream, Etc.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leia and Han argue. Luke is sad. Everyone eats ice cream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this fluffy chapter will tide you over until the next update, which will finally be the date!

Normally, Friday was just another day of the week for you.  You didn’t usually have plans.  It just meant the beginning of the weekend.  This Friday was different, though, because after Friday came Saturday, and Saturday was your first date with Anakin. 

_First date._

You couldn’t help but smile giddily to yourself every time you thought about it.  You were finally going out on a date with Anakin.  It was still hard to believe.  It hadn’t been that long ago that you were positive that your crush on Mr. Skywalker was childish and unreciprocated.  Sometimes it was nice to be proven wrong.

All in all, it was a wonderful day.  It was unseasonably warm, so Luke and Leia were playing outside once again.  The twins were having a great time.  Well, Luke was anyway.  Leia, on the other hand, was very disenchanted with the unfolding events of the day. 

Much to Luke’s excitement and Leia’s dismay, Han and Chewie had wandered by and decided to stop for a visit.  Having a new friend created possibilities for all sorts of new and interesting games and gave new life to the old ones.  For example, Han’s presence had entirely revamped Luke’s spaceman make-believe experience.

“I don’t like playing with a space pirate,” Leia complained loudly.  “I like it better with the spaceman and the space princess.”

“I’m not a space pirate.  I’m a smuggler,” Han explained.  “That’s cooler than a pirate.  I’m a handsome outlaw.”

“I think you’re kind of scruffy-looking,” she mumbled in response.

“Who are you calling scruffy-looking?”

“Han, Leia, get along or it’ll be time to go inside,” you intervened.

“Good,” Leia said smugly.  “I don’t want to play with him anyway.”

“That’s okay with me, your highness,” he said, sticking his tongue out at her.  “I don’t want to play with you either.  You’re no fun.”

“You’re ruining our game.  It’s for me and Luke and not for you!”

“Fine then, princess, I’ll leave.”  Before Leia could say another word against him, Han called to Chewie and set off for home.

“Why’d you have to be mean to him, Leia?” Luke demanded.  “Now he’s gone, and we might not ever see him again.  He won’t want to play with us anymore.”

“I’m sure he’ll be back, Luke,” you assured him, positive that Han and Luke’s budding friendship would not be squashed by Leia’s distaste for the new boy.  “You shouldn’t have treated him like that, Leia.  Luke wants to be friends with Han, and it’s wrong for you to get in the way of that.  I want you to tell Luke you’re sorry, and I want you to apologize to Han the next time you see him.”

“He’s never going to come back now!” Luke wailed, little tears beginning to well up in the corners of his eyes.  “I just wanted to make a friend, and Leia ruined it.”

With that, he ran into the house, slamming the door as hard as he could behind him.  The light thud of the closing door was, admittedly, not nearly as dramatic as he had intended.  You and Leia followed after him, but he was in no mood to talk about what had happened.  Luke had apparently decided that the best way to deal with the situation was to give both of you the silent treatment.  You tried, to no avail, to strike up a conversation with him, but he wouldn’t even respond to an apology from Leia.  He simply sat down on the couch and stared silently at the television, which wasn’t even turned on.

You weren’t overly concerned by Luke’s glum attitude.  He was a cheery boy, and you were sure he would quickly move on from his fit of melancholy and be back to playing with Leia in no time.  Still, you hated to see him so blue, and his unhappiness seemed to be making Leia sad as well. Eventually, she grew tired of trying to talk to him and sat down silently next to him on the sofa, staring with him at the blank TV screen.  They didn’t even stir when the front door opened and Mr. Skywalker walked in.

“You’re home early,” you observed, standing to greet him.

“It’s good to see you too,” he replied with a joking grin.  The smile faded when he saw Luke and Leia.  “Woah, who broke my kids?”

“They were playing with a new boy in the neighborhood,” you explained, recounting the events of the day, “and he left when Leia made him mad.  Luke got very upset about it, so he was refusing to talk, which bummed Leia out.  Now they’re sitting on the couch like creepy little horror movie kids, and they won’t respond to anything I say.”

“Well, I was in court today, and I won a big case,” he said, raising his voice to make sure the kids could hear what he said.  “I was going to do something to celebrate, but I guess these kids are just _too sad to go get ice cream_.”

“Ice cream!” Luke exclaimed, eagerly renouncing his vow of silence for the opportunity for sweets.  “I’m not sad.  Did you hear that, Leia?”  He shook his sister by the shoulder.  “Ice cream!”

“Believe it or not, it’s not the first time this has happened.  It really freaks me out sometimes, but they always snap out of it,” Anakin informed you.  “You want to go get ice cream with us?  I’m buying.”

“Who can pass up an opportunity for free ice cream?”

Luke and Leia were their usually cheerful selves by the time you all arrived at the ice cream shop.  Luke attempted to order the largest ice cream cone available for purchase, but his father quickly but the kibosh on that.  He ordered small cups of the flavors of their choice, distrusting their ability not to cover themselves with ice cream.  He also had to limit Luke’s topping choices after the sixth sprinkle variety was added.  Leia, on the other hand, opted for strawberry ice cream with gummy bears on top. 

It was strange to sit at a table with the Skywalkers in a setting like this.  Of course, you had eaten meals with them during the time you were snowed in, but that had been at their house.  You had never gone anywhere with them before.  It was nice to spend time with them, and, in a way, you felt like part of the family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you ready for this first date? 
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments!


	15. New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preparations are made for your date with Anakin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo... I told you this was going to be the date chapter. I may have lied a little bit. Before you get mad, hear me out. This isn't the date chapter. It's one of the date chapters (with an s). There was too much to put into one chapter, so it's going to be at least two, maybe three. See, I told you it was worth hearing me out on this.

You looked at your reflection for what felt like the fiftieth time.  Nothing had changed since the last time you checked, but you compulsively glanced at the mirror every time you walked by it, which was quite often considering the small size of your shared apartment.  Your roommate was out for the evening, which left you the entire space to yourself to prepare for your date.  The fact was very much appreciated because it allowed you to pace nervously without being interrupted or intruding on anyone else’s space.

It was not surprising that your roommate had plans on a Saturday night.  She had an active social life and was often away from the apartment.  You, of course, were seldom included in those plans.  Despite the fact that you lived together, you were not, by any stretch of the imagination, close friends.  You were two very different people who just happened to share a living space.  The arrangement came about when you responded to a flyer posted on the bulletin board at the bank.  The opportunity to split rent with someone else placed the apartment in your price range.

Your date was an hour away, and all you had done so far was take a shower and dry your hair.  You were running around frantically in your robe, wandering aimlessly.  What were you supposed to wear on this date?  How formal or casual were you supposed to dress?  Were jeans appropriate for the occasion?  You wracked your mind trying to think of what Anakin might like.  Had you ever worn something that seemed to catch his attention?  Nothing came to mind.

You almost sent him a text message asking what you should wear, but you decided against it.  First and foremost, it felt like a very childish thing to do, and the last thing you wanted was for Anakin to equate you with a child.  Second, as strange as it was, you hadn’t really ever texted him before.  There had been a short work-related message here or there such as, “Court ran late,” or “Let the satellite repairman in when he gets there.”  However, there had never been any personal correspondence.

In the end, you decided on a dress – nothing too fancy, though, just something simple with a sweater pulled over the top.  The warm front had passed through, and the weather had dropped below freezing again. Light flurries of snow were even being predicted for the night.  There were no blizzards in the forecast, though, thankfully.  You didn’t want to relive what happened the last time it snowed, although those events were what led to you being asked to go on a date in the first place.

When you were finally finished getting ready, you looked at yourself in the mirror – not a quick glance like before.  This time you really studied your reflection.  You smiled at yourself.  You looked nice.  Would Anakin think you looked nice?  You quickly pulled on a pair of tights at the last minute, afraid that your legs would get cold in the icy winter air, before grabbing your coat and locking the door.

As you pulled into the driveway at the Skywalker house, you saw an unfamiliar car in the driveway.  You realized that it must have belonged to Ahsoka, remembering that Anakin had asked her to watch the kids.  Your assumptions were confirmed when you knocked on the door and Anakin’s assistant answered, Luke clinging to her leg.

“Oh, hi!” she greeted you cheerfully, leaning to the side in response to Luke’s weight.  “Mr. Skywalker should be ready in just a minute.  Leia’s been feeling sick, and he’s been taking care of her all day.  He just went upstairs to change clothes, so he should be down anytime now.”

“That’s fine,” you told her.  “I’m a little bit early anyway.”

“So, is this what you deal with all the time?” Ahsoka asked, gesturing to Luke, whose arms were wrapped tightly around her thigh.

“Well, not that precisely.  A typical day involves less clinging and more bruising in my experience.”

You chatted casually with Ahsoka for a while until you heard footsteps descending the stairs.  Anakin came into view a second later.  He was dressed in dark-wash jeans and a sweater layered over a button-up shirt with a tie.  Even though he was wearing a necktie and wingtips, he still managed to radiate an aura of casual elegance that you hadn’t ever seen from him before.  He was fastening the buttons on the cuff of his right sleeve and hadn’t yet noticed your presence.

“C’mon, Luke, let’s find a toy to play with,” Ahsoka instructed, shepherding the boy off in search of entertainment, clearly in the hopes that he would release her from his anchoring grip if he had something else to occupy him.

Mr. Skywalker continued fiddling with his cuffs and likely would have walked right past you if you hadn’t spoken up.

“Hello.”

“(Y/N), hi,” he replied, stopping in his tracks and gently pressing a brief, chaste kiss against your cheek.  The action caught you off guard and sent a flutter through you stomach.  “I planned to be ready by the time you got here, but Leia has an awful cold.  Of course, _she_ thinks she’s fine, but to anyone else, it’s obvious that she’s sick.  It could be worse, but she needs to get some rest, which is the exact opposite of what she wants to do right now.”

“I’m a little bit early,” you told him.  “Sorry about that.”

“It’s no problem,” he assured you.  “I’m ready except for these stupid buttons.”  He held up his left wrist, showing you the open cuff.  His cheeks flushed slightly from what seemed to be embarrassment.  “Could you… I mean, you wouldn’t mind, would you?”

You realized that he couldn’t button the sleeves on that side by himself because he didn’t have working fingers on his right hand.  It crossed your mind that asking for such assistance must have been a daily occurrence for Anakin.  You recalled the time you had heard him ask Leia to help him push up his sleeve for him.  You reached out and pulled his wrist towards yourself, marveling at how nice it felt to touch him so casually.  Pushing his sweater sleeve up a little bit farther for ease of access, you fastened his cuffs.

“Thanks,” he said as you pulled his sweater sleeve back down. “Sorry.”

“It’s no problem.”

“You don’t have to pretend like it’s not a pain to help me get dressed.”

“You… look good.”

He laughed.  “If I remember correctly, the last time you said that to me, the only thing I was wearing was a towel.  It’s good to know that you still feel the same way when I’m wearing clothes.”

“I don’t think your looks depend all that much on what you’re wearing,” you confided.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” he said with a smile.  “In fact, I would go as far as to say that you look amazing.”

“Are you trying to flatter me?” you accused.

“Absolutely.  Is it working?”

“You know what,” you admitted, “I think it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so there still hasn't been a kiss (which I know you're all desperately waiting for), but there was a kiss on the cheek, which will just have to hold you over for now. More date antics to come.


	16. First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few awkward moments and potentially broken bones aside, your date with Anakin is everything you dreamed of and more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You folks didn't think I would miss the chance to upload a new chapter on Star Wars Day, did you? May the Fourth be with you.

You didn’t know what to say as you and Anakin rode together in his car.  It was only the third time you had ever been in his vehicle – the first and second both taking place during the snowstorm escapade.  Small talk didn’t seem quite appropriate because, although it was your first date, you weren’t meeting for the first time.  It would have felt odd to talk about the weather. 

“You’re allowed to talk to me, you know,” he quipped, momentarily glancing at you before redirecting his attention to the road.  “Unless you’ve taken a vow of silence since we left the house, and if that’s the case, if you do talk, I promise not to tell anyone that you’re an oath breaker.  Or is this about the hand thing?”

He was referring to the moment when you got into the vehicle and accidentally slammed his hand in the car door.  He had gone out of his way to open your door for you, and you repaid him by smashing his fingers.  Fortunately, it had been his prosthetic limb and not his real flesh-and-blood hand, but that didn’t mean that you were any less shocked or embarrassed by what had occurred.  It was rather traumatizing to be under the impression, even if only for a moment, that you had broken your date’s only functioning hand.

The worst part of it had been the sound.  There was a horrible cracking that you had first believed to be the sound of his bones breaking.  When you realized that it was his prosthesis, your immediate impression was that you had broken his expensive replacement limb.  You learned, however, that the fingers were slightly adjustable, and that the sound you heard was them bending and snapping into place.  Nevertheless, you were absolutely mortified.

“Maybe a little bit,” you admitted.  “Again, I’m really sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, (Y/N).  You don’t have to keep worrying about it.”

“I could’ve broken your hand.  What would you have done then?”

“I would have figured something else out,” Anakin insisted.  “A broken hand is nothing in comparison to amputation.  I mean, I wouldn’t have any usable hands if you had cracked something, but I’m sure I would manage.  Besides, you _didn’t_ break anything.  You didn’t even hurt me.  It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Still, it’s a pretty lousy way to start off a date.”

“It wasn’t so bad.  Just forget that it even happened.”

“Is your hand okay?” you asked.  “Well, not your hand but your… the other one…”

“There’s no damage.  Believe it or not, my kids have shut both of my hands in the car door a time or two.  It’ll be fine.”

When you arrived at the restaurant, you made sure that Anakin was nowhere near your car door when you closed it.  The last thing you wanted to do was relive the traumatizing event.

“Did I mention that you look really good?” Anakin inquired as he walked beside you.

“It might have come up in conversation earlier,” you replied as your cheeks flushed a rosy pink color.

“Oh yeah, right after you were telling me that you like the way I look in a towel,” he recalled with a good-natured laugh. 

Inside, you were seated at a table for two.  Sitting across from Anakin allowed you an opportunity to take a moment to really look at him for once.  You tried to be subtle about your staring, but he immediately caught on to what you were doing.

“Are you checking me out?” His eyes narrowed interrogatively.

“No!” you said much too quickly.

“Strangely enough, I’m not convinced.  You were totally staring at me.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he told you, raising an eyebrow.  “I’m not complaining.” 

“You can stare at me for a little bit, just so we’re even,” you suggested.

“See, you’re clearly operating under the assumption that I haven’t already been doing that.  I’m no better than you.  I’m just less obvious.”

“Shut up,” you said, unable to think of anything clever to say in response.

“Ooh, those are some harsh words,” Anakin teased melodramatically.  “I don’t think I’ll be able to continue living after being crushed by the weight of your witty comeback.”

“Very funny,” you grumbled.

“Or so I’ve been told,” he grinned. 

You had to admit that you did love his sarcasm a little more than you probably should have.  You got the distinct impression that Anakin usually managed to get the last word in every conversation. 

“So… How’s Leia doing?” you asked, eager to transition the conversation away from your staring but a bit unsure of how to do so.

“She’s a little sick, but she’ll be fine,” Anakin assured you.  “I’m not worried about her.  If it was anything too serious, I probably would have cancelled tonight to stay home and take care of her.”

“What do you think is wrong with her?”

He sighed.  “(Y/N), did you really come out with me to discuss my kids all night?  I love to talk about them more than anyone – I mean, I am their dad, after all.  But I’m sure there are a million other things you would rather ask me.”

You could actually think of several things right off the bat that you wanted to ask him about.  How had he gotten that scar across his eye?  What happened to his wife?  When was he finally going to kiss you?  That was just to name a few of the questions floating through your mind to which you were dying to know the answers.  However, you asked none of them because you were afraid of being too forward.  It was just your first date, after all.

“How long have you been a lawyer?” was the one you settled on.

“I got my first job pretty much right away after finishing law school, so it’s been awhile.  Obi-Wan and I officially opened our own firm just a couple of months after the twins were born.  We were taking cases in the year before the grand opening, though.  It just took some time to finalize all the details with the building and all.  The twins turned four a few months ago, so that means I’ve been there for just about five years.”

Five years.

Five years ago, Anakin Skywalker was taking the next bold step in his career.  Five years ago, he was happily married, and he was about to become a father of two children.

Meanwhile, five years ago, you were still in high school.  Somehow, you had managed to briefly forget how much older than you Anakin was.  Twelve years, to be precise.  You had to remind yourself that it wasn't a big deal and that he wanted to be there with you as much as you wanted to be with him.

The rest of your date went well.  It was nice just to sit down and get to know each other for once, to actually have a normal, adult conversation.  Almost every other time you had spoken, you had been suddenly interrupted by Luke or Leia.  As much as you loved the twins, you were glad to have time alone with just Anakin, and you hoped to have as many more moments like this as humanly possible.

When you left the restaurant, he opened the car door for you again and made a big show of keeping his hands out of the way while you closed it.  You rolled your eyes at him but smiled nonetheless.

“I had a good time tonight,” you confided as he pulled his car into his driveway after the drive home.

“Me too,” he replied with a grin that put butterflies in your stomach.  “Do you want to come inside?”

“I… um,” your cheeks turned scarlet as you floundered for something to say in response.  “Like I said, I had a good time, and you’re really great and all, but I… We’ve only been on one date, and…”

“Oh god, that’s not what I meant.” His eyes widened, and he clarified with a self-deprecating laugh, “Sorry about that.  It’s not very late yet, so I just thought you might want to come in for a while – maybe see the kids and watch a movie or something.”

“Oh.”  The blush that already covered your face spread all the way to your ears.  “Oh my gosh, I feel terrible.  I’m such a jerk for assuming you were just trying to get me into bed.”

“It’s okay.”  He exhaled heavily and braced his hands, both real and prosthetic, against the steering wheel, even though the car was already in park, as if he needed to ground himself in some way to deal with his thoughts.  “I’m not ready for that, anyways.  It hasn’t been a whole year yet, and I…  Just going on a date is a really big step for me.  This is really difficult.”

You wanted to reach out and comfort him somehow, but you weren’t sure if that was the best decision.  It was a bit overwhelming to hear him talk so seriously like that.  Anakin usually managed to keep a lighthearted and joking attitude, even towards serious matters, except when it came to his wife.  He was clearly going through quite a bit of inner turmoil, although he managed to keep a calm exterior.  In the end, you placed a reassuring hand on his right shoulder and gave him a gentle smile.

He clasped your hand in his and held both of them there against his arm where you had touched him.  His eyes studied you thoughtfully, and he had a look on his face that you had seen once before.  When the two of you had spoken in his kitchen early in the morning, he had looked at you in the exact same way.  It was as if he recognized you, but couldn’t quite place how he knew you.  After a moment, his expression softened, and his gaze became gentler.

When he let go of your hand, you dropped your eyes to your lap, somewhat disheartened by the progression of events that had unfolded.  Your disappointment was short-lived, however, because you quickly learned that he had only released his warm grasp in order to place his hand lightly against your rapidly heating cheek.

The situation was all too familiar.  The look in his eyes, the beating of your heart, the way you could feel your faces inching ever so slowly toward each other – it had all happened before.  You were just waiting for the inevitable interruption, for the car door to suddenly open, and for it all to abruptly be brought to a surprise halt, just like the other times. 

You were amazed to find it even more surprising when no interruption came.

His lips were soft, so much softer than you imagined.  You momentarily considered asking him what kind of lip balm he used, but you quickly chided yourself for getting distracted.  You didn’t want to interrupt this long-awaited moment with your foolish thoughts.  You just wanted to enjoy every second of it.

And you enjoyed it so much.  What lasted for less than ten seconds in reality seemed to go on for a blissful eternity.  His kissing expertise came as a pleasant surprise that starkly contrasted his rather awkward and clumsy nature when it came to romance. 

There eventually came a time when his lips had to leave yours, and you could sense that his regret was just as strong as your that such a perfect moment had to come to an end.  He lingered with his forehead against yours and his hand caressing the side of your face.  You became suddenly aware of just how fast your heart was beating. 

Anakin stroked your cheek with his thumb for a moment before pressing a light kiss against your temple.  Just like that, the moment was over, and you were left in a daze.  You touched a finger to your lips in an attempt to recreate the pressure that was now absent.  You realized that you already missed the feeling of his mouth pressed against yours.

And you longed to feel it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooooo? I'm sure some of you are having some feelings going on inside of you right now. Feel free to let it all out in the comments.
> 
> Even if you aren't having all the feels about the end of the chapter, you're still welcome to leave comments letting me know what you think or telling me about things you'd like to see in future chapters (like a character you want to make an appearance, or something from the canon that you'd like me to reference) or even future fics.


	17. Tell Me About It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin comes home early from work with a lot on his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates two days in a row? It's almost like I'm procrastinating so I don't have to study for my finals or something.

The past three weeks of your life had been amazing.  It was no coincidence that three weeks was precisely how long you had been dating Anakin.  The days passed in a long string of stolen moments and quick kisses, but on the weekends, you had time alone together.  You had learned so much about Anakin already!

There were still a few questions to which you did not yet have answers, though, because you still didn’t feel entirely comfortable asking him.  You knew you’d find out eventually.

Things proceeded as usual when you babysat Luke and Leia, mostly because didn’t know that you were dating their father.  He had explained to you that didn’t think it was a good idea to tell them about it yet because he wasn’t sure how they would react.  You assumed that he didn’t want them to think that you were trying to replace their mother.  He told you that, yes, that was a concern, but he was more worried about them making you uncomfortable.  After all, Luke had once suggested that you marry Anakin just so you wouldn’t have to sleep on their couch.

On one particularly strange occasion, you were babysitting the kids all day long.  The daycare facility was closed for the day because of an outbreak of headlice, and you had the day off from your retail job, so you were able to take care of them.  You only saw Anakin for a fleeting moment when you arrived at the house.  He said hello, gave you a few brief instructions, and then left with his briefcase in hand.  He seemed oddly on edge about something.  You figured his current case must have been a difficult one.

“(Y/N),” Leia complained.  “Luke sat on my picture and now it’s all smushed.” 

She held up a piece of paper with a picture drawn in marker as evidence, and it was, indeed, quite crumpled.  Luke trailed after her apologetically, telling her he was sorry for sitting on her drawing. 

“It wasn’t on purpose,” he insisted.  “I didn’t know her picture was in the chair.”

“I’m sure it was an accident, Luke,” you told him.  “Leia, Luke told you he was sorry.  He didn’t do anything against the rules, and I’m not going to punish him for making a little mistake.  We can flatten your picture back out some, and everything should be fine.  Okay?”

“Okay,” she grumbled.

Fixing her artwork was as easy as putting the iron on a low setting and running it over the paper a few times.  It was a trick you knew well from being a broke college graduate.  You couldn’t count the number of times you had ironed old tissue paper to wrap gifts because you weren’t willing to shell out a dollar to buy new.  In the end, she was satisfied with the result.

Only about five minutes later, however, Luke came to you with a complaint of his own.  You were working on resolving the conflict with the twins when the sound of the front door being opened distracted you. 

You looked at the clock on the mantle.  It was only 1:30 – far too early for Anakin to be getting home from work.  It might have been understandable if he had court earlier in the day, but he hadn’t marked it on the calendar.

“You’re sure home early,” you remarked as he hung up his coat.  He glanced at you, and you saw dark circles under his eyes that you hadn’t noticed in the morning.  In fact, he looked a bit under the weather overall.   “Are you sick or something?”

“Um,” he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache, “no, I just… I had to come home.”

“Oh, is something wrong?”

“I’m fine, but Obi-Wan didn’t think so.  He made me leave.”

“So, _are_ you sick?” you asked again.  “I just want to get some clarification on that.”

“No, I’m not sick,” he restated, spinning his wedding band.  You had noticed that he did it whenever he was uncomfortable or upset about something.  “I’m fine.  Apparently, I looked sad or something, so Obi-Wan didn’t think I should be working.  He said something about ‘taking some time to clear my head.’  I’m fine, though.  I should be at the office right now, not at home.  There are things I need to do that I can’t get done here.”

“Does that mean you’re going back to work, or…”

“No, I’m staying home.”

“Do you want me to leave?” you asked him, your voice sounding small.  He seemed agitated, and you were worried that you were teetering on the edge of an argument.  It would be your first fight with Anakin, and you weren’t eager to experience that.

He ran his hand though his hair and sighed, calming himself down a bit.  “No, if you could stay, that would be great.  I still have to finish some work, even if I’m not at the firm, so I won’t be able to keep an eye on the kids.”

“Okay then.”

He gave you a curt nod before picking up his briefcase and disappearing into his home office.  Hours passed, and he never emerged.  When you looked at the clock and saw that it was almost five o’clock, you decided to look in and make sure he was alright.

“Anakin?” you inquired, knocking softly on the closet door that led to his makeshift office.  When you received no answer, you cracked open the door to peer inside.

Anakin was slouched back in his chair with his left forearm across his eyes.  You only realized what he was doing when he gasped sharply.  He was crying.

No, that wasn’t quite right.  He was sobbing.  It was almost completely silent, but there was no doubt in your mind about what you were witnessing.  Your eyes widened as he took a deep breath and shook for a moment, completely overcome by the force of his tears.

You were torn between shutting the door and pretending like you hadn’t seen anything or going in and comforting him.  Both options had their merit.

“Anakin?” You took a hesitant step inside.  He quickly sat up in his chair and dried his tears on his shirtsleeve.  The circles under his eyes had darkened, and you realized that this wasn’t the first time he had cried that day.  “Anakin, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he choked, not managing to convince you in the slightest that he was actually fine.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve just got a lot on my mind,” he said, trying to dismiss your question.

“You can tell me about it if you want.”

He looked up at you uncertainly and twirled his ring around his finger again.  With a sigh, he glanced sidelong at the picture of his wife that he kept on his desk.  He nodded his head and looked back at you.

“Okay.”


	18. Things That Are Hard to Say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin confides in you about a difficult subject.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three days of updates in a row? Unlimited power!

It took a moment for Anakin to compose himself enough to hold a conversation with you.  You were patient and allowed him as much time as he needed to pull himself together.  He didn’t start talking until his shaking had subsided.

“It’s been a rough day,” he admitted.

“I can tell,” you informed him, sitting down on the edge of his desk.  “It’s okay.”

“I thought that going to work like normal would distract me, that it might keep my mind off of things.  Apparently, that didn’t really go quite as planned.”

“So you came home.”

“More accurately, I got sent home,” he corrected.  “Obi-Wan caught me crying in my office and suggested that I leave to have some time to myself.  I think I was stressing him out.”  He laughed, but it wasn’t what you were accustomed to.  It wasn’t a real laugh, more of a pained sigh than anything, but you were of the impression that he intended it for it to be a laugh and just didn’t have the strength to follow through.

You started to reach out to comfort him in some way but thought better of it and quickly retracted your hand.  It crossed your mind that he might need some space to deal with whatever was bothering him.

“I don’t know if we’re at that point yet in our… whatever we are,” you told him, “but you don’t have to feel weird about telling me stuff – like, when something’s wrong or whatever.  I’m cool with it.”

He had progressed from simply spinning his ring to using his thumb to slide it up and down his finger.  You weren’t sure if that was a sign that he had become more or less anxious.  Because it wasn’t something you had ever seen him do before, you found it likely that he was becoming increasingly more upset.

“I’ve been dealing with this for a year now, today shouldn’t be so much harder.”  He looked at the framed photo on his desk. 

“Oh.” You understood.

“Today’s the day,” he sighed.  “It’s been a whole year since I lost her.  I really thought I would be okay today.”

“I’m sorry.” You weren’t sure what else to say.

“Everybody’s sorry,” he said glumly.  “I’m the sorriest of all.  It’s my fault she’s dead in the first place.  Everyone tells me that I shouldn’t blame myself, but I can’t help but feel like Padmè would still be alive if it weren’t for me.  I thought it would get easier to deal with as time went on, but there’s always something that opens that wound again.  Every holiday, every birthday, every anniversary – it’s all a reminder that she’s not here.

“I’m supposed to be moving on.  I know that I can’t spend my whole life mourning.  I have to keep living, but moving on feels so much like forgetting.  I had to put away all the pictures of her because it was tearing me apart to see them all over the house.  I couldn’t walk by them without being reminded of what I lost. 

“I never feel like I’m making progress, either.  Every time I do something to move forward with my life, I feel like I’m insulting her memory.  I always wonder if other people think I’m trying to move on too quickly, and there doesn’t seem to be any right or wrong timeframe for things to happen.  I wish there were rules for this sort of thing.  That would make it all so much easier for me.

“Then you came along, and things weren’t as hard anymore.  It was a little bit easier to put things behind me when I didn’t have to fill the role of both parents twenty-four hours a day.  When I started developing some feelings for you, I had to take a step back and reevaluate things.  At first, I thought it was just because you were the first woman to be in my life since Padmè, so I just ignored it.  The feeling wouldn’t go away, though, and I was so angry at myself because it just felt so _wrong_ to be fawning over some… some kid, essentially, when my wife was dead.  I came to terms with it and decided it was best just to act like those feelings didn’t exist because I didn’t want you to think that I was some creepy older man trying to seduce you or that I was just jumping on the first thing that walked by in a skirt. 

“Now that we’re actually together, I feel so conflicted all of the time because I can’t reconcile how much I still love Padmè with how I feel about you.  It seems like I’m somehow betraying her by being with you, and I feel guilty because I couldn’t even wait until she was gone a year before dating again.  Then I feel like I can’t give you as much of myself as you deserve because I’m still hung up on my wife.  I know it’s not really fair to you, but I’m never going to stop loving her.  I can’t.   I just feel like there’s no right answer in this situation, and I can’t handle it.” 

You waited until you were sure that he was done talking before speaking up.  “It’s okay,” you said sympathetically.

“Is it, though?”

“Yes, it is,” you told him firmly, trying to sound bolder than you felt.  You couldn’t reassure him if you didn’t sound confident in what you were saying.  “It’s absolutely okay.  You’re allowed to feel like that, Anakin.  Like you said, there aren’t any rules about this sort of thing.  You don’t have to act like you’re fine if you aren’t.  Everyone will understand if you’re having trouble with this.

“And you don’t need to feel like you aren’t being fair to me,” you continued.  “I’m not trying to replace what you lost.  No one can do that.  I don’t expect you to stop loving your wife just because I’m here now.  That would make me feel awful.”

It seemed like the right time to reach out to him.  You bridged the gap between the two of you and gently intertwined your fingers with his.  His expression was pained when he looked up at you.

“Am I doing the right thing?” he asked softly, and you weren’t entirely sure whether he was asking you or himself. 

“What thing are you asking about?”

“Any of it,”

You squeezed his hand lightly and looked him in the eyes.  “I think you’re doing the best you can.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to Cindi and DeWun for correctly guessing the context of the chapter. You win some crippling sadness.


	19. Nothing at All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You spend some time at the Skywalker house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update, everyone. I'm working at a summer camp, so my wifi access is spotty at best. I also haven't had a lot of time to work on my fics, but I'm super excited to have this update ready for you today!

“It’s kind of funny, really,” Anakin said, not sounding like he found what he was saying even slightly humorous.  “I packed away all of the pictures of Padmé in a box, but for some reason, when I got to this one, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.  Out of all the pictures, I left out the one in here.  I wanted to hide them, so I wouldn’t have to be reminded all the time about what happened, but I kept this one where I see it every day.  It’s like I’m torturing myself or something.”

He stared at the photograph for a while before turning back to you apologetically.  “I’m sorry I keep going on and on about this.  You don’t have to sit there and watch me go through an existential crisis.”

“I want to hear what you have to say,” you told him.  “Plus, I think it’ll probably do you some good to say all of this stuff out loud.”

“You’re probably right,” he sighed.  “I’ve spent the last year trying to avoid discussing the subject whenever possible.  I haven’t ever put words behind the thoughts.  Thanks for listening.”

“Thanks for trusting me enough to tell me about all of it.”

“I probably didn’t even cover half of what’s going through my mind right now, but I’m glad you aren’t upset with me for making you sit through my rant.” Finally, Anakin smiled again.  “I just made you listen to be go on and on about _my_ feelings, so is there anything you need to get off your chest?”

“You know,” you admitted, “I’ve actually been really happy lately.”

“Do you know why?”

“Yeah,” you grinned, looking into his eyes.  “Yeah, I think I do.”

“Does it have anything to do with me?”

“You’re so conceited,” you teased, “but yeah, maybe a _little_.”

“As conflicted as I’ve felt about all of this lately,” Anakin told you very seriously, “The time that I’ve spent with you is the happiest I’ve been all year.  I know it might seem like I’m jumping the gun to say this but I think I might be falli- “

The door to Anakin’s office abruptly swung open, and both Luke and Leia came barging inside.

“I’m hungry,” Luke complained.  “Can I have a snack?”

“If Luke can have a snack, then I should get one too,” Leia asserted.  “It’s not fair if I don’t.”

Anakin sighed audibly and looked at the clock hanging on the wall.  “No snacks for either of you,” he announced.  “It’s almost time for dinner.”

“Can (Y/N) stay and eat with us?” Luke asked hopefully.

“Yeah, Daddy, can she?” Leia echoed.

“That decision is up to her, kids,” he told them, eying you conspiratorially.  “She’s welcome here anytime, and she can stay for dinner if she wants.”

“Will you stay?” Luke asked eagerly, turning to you.  His eyes were shining with anticipation.

You smiled at Anakin.  “I’d love to.”

Later, you helped Luke set the table while Leia stood in a chair in the kitchen, supervising her father as he cooked.  You occasionally heard her throw out a suggestion for an ingredient, which Anakin would always consider thoughtfully for a moment to indulge her interest. 

“(Y/N),” Anakin called from the kitchen, “Can you help me out with something when you get a chance?”

“Sure,” you called back, setting the last piece of silverware down on the table.  You asked as you entered the kitchen, “What is it you need help with?”

“Can you help me carry some of this to the table?”

Leia’s head turned sharply from the spot she was wiping off of the counter with a paper towel to her father. “Why are we eating at the table?  You said that we eat in the kitchen unless it’s something special.”

“We have a guest tonight,” he explained.

“(Y/N) ate with us in the kitchen when we had pancakes,” Leia reminded him pointedly, narrowing her eyes with suspicion.  “She was a guest then too.  This time isn’t different than that time.  Why are we eating at the table?”

“Would you prefer to eat in the kitchen?” he asked her, tapping his foot somewhat impatiently on the floor.

“No, we can eat in the dining room,” she relented, “but I still wish you would tell me why.”

As you helped move dishes of food from the counter to the dining room table, you realized why the Skywalkers rarely ate at the table.  You followed behind Anakin holding a bowl of green beans, watching him labor to balance a plate of baked chicken on one hand.  They ate at the island in the kitchen because it was easier for him.  You stepped around him and set the green beans down on the table.

“Can I help you with that?” you asked hesitantly, upset to see him struggling.

“No, I’ve got it,” he insisted. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I can do it.” For a moment he wavered, looking like he was about to drop the platter, but he made a quick recovery and quickly set the main dish down on the table.  He turned to look at you when he was empty-handed. “I used to do all this stuff on my own, and I’ve been doing it on my own again for the past year.  I pretty much have it all figured out at this point.  I know what I can do and what I need help with, and there’s not a lot I need help with anymore.  You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to seem…” you weren’t really sure what you didn’t mean to seem, but the apology was genuine.

“It’s okay.  I know you’re just not accustomed to this whole thing yet, but you’ll get used to it.  I think I’ve mentioned before that people always make the whole one arm thing into something way bigger than it really is.  You don’t have to feel weird about it.”  Anakin grinned and touched one of your hands affectionately with his.  You glanced around and saw that both of the twins had disappeared.  “Seriously, out of all the things going on in our lives right now, that’s not even the strangest one.”

“I’m guessing the strangest part is the twelve-year age difference between us.”

He flinched almost imperceptibly at the comment.  It was obvious that he was having just as much trouble overcoming that one barrier as you were.  “Well, yes, there’s that, but there’s also the fact that you’re my kids’ babysitter.  That kind of makes me feel like I’m living in a bad porno.”

“Without the sex,” you added, not pausing to think about your words before you said them.

“Right,” Anakin blushed very noticeably, “because we haven’t… Right.”

“Right.”

“Right,” he said once more before hurriedly changing the subject. “So, are you doing anything tomorrow?  Do you have work?”

“I’m babysitting the kids all day tomorrow.  Because of the whole headlice thing at the daycare center.”

“Riiiight.”

The two of you stared awkwardly at each other in silence, not sure where to steer the conversation.  After some time had passed, a stupid grin broke out across Anakin’s face.  As infectious as his smile always was, you were soon following suit.  Smiles turned to giggles, which turned into raucous peals of laughter.  When Luke and Leia burst into the room moments later, you were both clutching at your sides and gasping for breath.

“What’s so funny?” Leia demanded.

“Nothing,” her father told her, recovering from the fit of laughter and looking at you with a devilish glimmer in his eye.  “Nothing at all.”


	20. Contentment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unplanned date leads to even more unplanned moments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the super long wait for this chapter, everyone. I'm done working at camp for the summer, so I'm back home now. This means that I should be updating with more regularity from now on. Updates might still be a little spotty at first as I start another semester of college, but I'll fall into a more normal routine soon.
> 
> IMPORTANT INFO: This chapter contains some smut, due to the overwhelming vote in favor of this story containing some. There isn't much, but it's there. It comprises the end of this chapter. The beginning of the mature content is marked with "XXX" in bold underlined italics. It lasts from the signifying mark until the end of this chapter.

It had been more than a week since the night you had eaten dinner at the Skywalker house.  Things were back to normal in everyone’s lives.  The headlice problem at the daycare center was under control, and the kids reentered their usual daily routine.  Anakin recovered from his grief.  You were working at the mall in the mornings and picking up Luke and Leia in the afternoons.  Something had changed, though.  It was almost imperceptible, and you couldn’t place what it was, but something was markedly different.

“Can we play outside?” Luke asked, fidgeting in his chair at the dining room table, where he was drawing a picture of an astronaut with crayons.  “I’m bored.”

“I’m afraid not,” you told him.  “It’s cold and rainy out there.  It’s not good weather for playing outside.  You’ll get all wet and muddy, and then you’ll be freezing.”

“But it’s booooring in here!” he complained.

“It’s too dark out to play,” you informed him, pointing to the window.  Outside, a thunderstorm was raging, and the sun had been blacked out ominous looking clouds.  “Besides, it’s almost time for your dad to get home.”

That seemed to be a good enough answer for Luke, who quieted down and completed his drawing in peace.  Meanwhile, Leia was working furiously on a picture that she refused to let you see until it was completed. 

You jumped up from your chair the second you heard the sound of tires on the driveway.  These days, you were more eager than the children for their father’s arrival in the evenings.  Luke hopped up as well, rushing to the front door.  Leia continued drawing, intent on her picture.

“Hey, Luke, how was your day?” Anakin asked his son when he walked in, affectionately ruffling the boy’s hair.

“Boring,” Luke complained.  “It rained all day, so we couldn’t play outside. I thought Han might come by and bring his puppy, but he probably thought we weren’t home because we were inside.”

“Well, they probably weren’t out in the rain either,” Anakin observed.  “It’s not a very nice day to be outdoors.”

“I drew an astronaut.” Luke held out the picture he had drawn for his father to see.

“Wow, that’s great! You know what, why don’t you go hang that up on the refrigerator.  That’s a perfect spot for it.”

“Okay!” Luke eagerly ran to do what had been suggested.

When Luke was gone, Anakin turned to you and placed a swift kiss against your cheek.  “Hey, do you want to do something tonight?”

“Um, it’s Thursday,” you pointed out.  “Don’t you have to work tomorrow?”

“I have a light caseload,” he said dismissively. 

“What about the kids?”

“Obi-Wan can watch them.  He was just saying today that he felt like he hadn’t seen Luke and Leia in ages.  He’d love to swing by for the evening.”

“Alright then, what did you have in mind?”

“There’s a new play opening at the Dagobah Avenue Theatre tonight.  Want to go see it?”

“What’s it about?” you asked.

“To be honest, I have no idea.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

***

It was late when the two of you arrived back at the Skywalker house.  Anakin thanked Obi-Wan and went upstairs to make sure the kids were sleeping.  When he rejoined you downstairs, Obi-Wan had left, and the two of you were alone.

“I’m not an expert on this sort of thing by any means,” Anakin said, sitting down on the couch, “but I think that might have been the worst play ever written.”

You followed suit and sat down as well, leaning against him slightly.  “It definitely sucked,” you agreed. “Like, who greenlit this production?  Someone read that scene about the dog being the murderer all along and said, ‘This is the sort of art that the world needs to see.’”

“I’m sorry I made you watch that.”

“It’s okay,” you laughed.  “There’s no one I’d rather sit through a crappy play with than you.”

“Thanks,” he smiled, leaning in to gently kiss you on the lips.

“Any time,” you sighed contentedly.

“Well, in that case…” he joked, kissing you again.

And again.

And again.

 

**_ XXX _ **

You eagerly reciprocated every kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and sliding closer to him.   Caught up in the moment, the two of you lost the previous sense of inhibition you had always maintained.  Your hands roamed his chest as his tongue explored your mouth.  You found yourself straddling his lap in an attempt to give him easier access to your lips.

“Oh,” you said softly as you became aware of the fact that he was noticeably aroused.

“I’m sorry,” Anakin spoke back, breathlessly.

“No, don’t be,” you smiled, reclaiming his lips.  You swiveled your hips, eliciting a groan from him.  Thoroughly enjoying the response that you received, you did it again. 

You slid your hand down the lapel of the suit he was still wearing, your fingers trailing across the charcoal gray material.  When you reached the hem of his jacket, you reached underneath it, landing on the metal of his belt buckle.

“Stop,” Anakin told you firmly as you began to unfasten his belt, although it sounded as if it pained him to say the word.

“Sorry.”  You _were_ sorry, and frankly, a bit embarrassed at how easily you had gotten carried away.

“Don’t be.” He echoed your words from only a moment before.  “I want this.  I really do, more than you know.  I just…” He took a moment to catch his breath, his chest heaving from all the excitement.  “I don’t have any condoms.”

“I’m on birth control.”

“So was Padmè.”

“What?” The statement came as a complete shock.  That meant that…

“Accidents happen.  I’m not taking any chances,” he insisted.  “Listen, an unexpected pregnancy is a shock even when you’re married.  I’m not going to put you through that.”

“So do you want to stop?” You were a bit startled by his impromptu safe sex lecture, but you were still eager to pick up where you had left off.

There was a dark look in his eyes as he considered your question. “There are things we can do without protection.”

With a mischievous smile, you took his necktie in your hands and pulled him towards you until his nose bumped up against yours.  Placing your arms around his neck for support, you ground your hips against him, this time more forcefully than before, as you kissed him.

“Is this what you had in mind?” you asked him, taking a moment to pull your lips away from his.

“Not exactly,” he said, burying his face in the crook of your neck, “but please don’t stop.”

You energetically continued your movements, reveling in the feeling of the bulge in his trousers against your aching core.  His arm was wrapped around your waist, holding you flush against him.  This was the closest the two of you had ever been.  Even through the layers of clothing that covered you both, you could feel the heat of his body.

The grinding, the closeness, the delicious friction, the pure bliss of his lips on your neck – it was heaven.  You didn’t want it to end.

“Shit!” Anakin cursed.  “I’m close.  I’m so close.”

“Me too,” you confided, feeling an intense pressure building in your lower abdomen.

There was a muffled groan, and Anakin’s grip on your waist loosened.  You realized, with satisfied amusement, that he had bit down on your shoulder to quiet his moaning as he reached his climax.  Spurred on by his release, you quickened your movements, eager to finish as well.  You reached clumsily for his hand and intertwined your fingers with his.  With each swivel and thrust of your hips, you could feel yourself getting closer, closer, closer…

Until…

“Ah!”

Anakin silenced your shout by covering your mouth with his, kissing you with a passion that was surprisingly new and overwhelmingly blissful, bringing your down from the high of your orgasm.  You slumped against him, and once again, his arm wrapped around your waist.  Comfortably held in his embrace, you looked up at his face.  Something had changed.  For the first time since you had met him, Anakin Skywalker didn’t look like a person who had lost someone close to him.  He didn’t look like he was covering up his overwhelming sadness with a smile.

For once, Anakin Skywalker looked content.


	21. Always Welcome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Han has a very bad day.

“Throw it over here! Over here!” Luke squealed gleefully, happy to finally be outside again.  “Throw it to me!”

Obligingly, Leia picked up the big red ball that had rolled over to her and chucked it at her brother with all her might.  He missed the catch, and the ball bounced off of his chest with a thud.  It was made of soft rubber, and he was wearing a thick, puffy coat, so it didn’t hurt him.  However, it did knock the wind out of him for a moment or two.  After catching his breath, Luke happily picked the ball up and threw it back to Leia, who had considerably more success catching it.  The two continued to play catch, becoming more consistent in their passing and receiving efforts each time.

“Look at how good we can work together,” Luke pointed out after some time. 

Leia tossed the ball and looked at you pointedly.  “Daddy got mad at us for fighting last night.  He made us go to bed early.  We’re trying to do better.”

“Yeah, we’re doing a good job today,” Luke said, grabbing the ball and bouncing it to his sister.  Looking off down the street, his eyes lit up.  “Hey, is that Han and Chewie?”

Sure enough, a boy and his dog could be seen moving along the sidewalk.  As they emerged into full view, you could see that Han wasn’t walking with his usual confidence.

“Han! Hey, Han!”  Luke bellowed, waving his arms over his head to catch his friend’s attention.  “Han, over here!”

In response, Han ducked his head down and increased his pace.

“He doesn’t look like he wants to come over here,” Leia observed.

“Probably because of you,” Luke mumbled.  “You hate him, and he knows it.”

“I don’t hate him.  I just don’t like it when he’s mean to me, and he’s mean to me all the time.”

“Han! Look here!  Hey, Han!  Chewie!” 

At the sound of his name, the spunky golden retriever’s ears perked up, and the dog came sprinting into the yard.  The boy followed after him, obviously disgruntled.

“Hi, Han!” Luke greeted energetically. 

“Hey,” his friend replied without enthusiasm. 

“What happened to your face?” Leia asked bluntly, gesturing to the dark bruise that surrounded Han’s left eye.

“Nothing,” he said, covering his eye with his hand.

“Does it hurt?” Luke asked.

“It’s no big deal.”

“Would you like me to get you some ice, Han?” you asked him.

After no small amount of grumbling, he finally conceded.  He followed you inside with the twins trailing behind him.  Chewie waited patiently outside, finding great joy in the ball that the children left behind.  You filled a plastic bag with ice and told Han to sit down on the couch.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” you inquired.  “You don’t have to if you don’t feel comfortable, but if you let me know, I might be able to help you.”

“I got in a fight,” he stated plainly.  “Well, it wasn’t really a fight.  A boy named Boba punched me.  I didn’t hit him back, even though I really wanted to.”

“You can stay here and play with us,” Luke suggested.  “I’ll be nice to you – I promise.”

“Me too,” Leia agreed somewhat reluctantly.  “I promise.”

Friends proved to be exactly what Han needed.  Once he grew tired of holding the ice bag up to his eye, he and the twins ran back outside to play.  They were all still running and laughing and throwing the ball around when Anakin’s SUV pulled into the driveway.

“Whoa, I only had two kids the last time I checked,” he said as he stepped out of the vehicle.  “Where’d the third one come from?”  Chewie barked.  “I’m sorry, the third and _fourth_ ones,” Anakin corrected.  “How could I forget about Chewie?”

“Hi, Mr. Skywalker,” Han said sheepishly in greeting.

“Han, what happened to your eye?” Anakin asked, jumping right to the point and crouching down to inspect the boy’s bruise.

“I got punched at school.”

“Han, you shouldn’t be fighting,” Anakin scolded.  He sounded disappointed.  “You’re better than that.”

“I didn’t fight back, Mr. Skywalker.”

“That’s good.  Sometimes it takes more bravery to let things go than it does to fight back.  That was good judgment on your part.”

“I guess so, but I still got in trouble.”

“Yeah, that’s the way it goes sometimes.  The things that happen to us in life don’t always seem fair.”  Anakin spoke from a firsthand perspective.  He had certainly gone through his own personal share of misfortune.  “Now, do your parents know you’re here?”

“No, but they don’t care,” Han said.  “They won’t be worried that I’m gone.  I’m not even sure they’re home.”

“Well, you know you’re always welcome here, Han.  Do you want to stay for dinner?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Wait, we should probably ask Chewie,” Anakin noted with mock seriousness.  “Hey, Chewie, want to stay for dinner?”

Chewie barked enthusiastically in response.

“Well,” Anakin observed with an amused grin, “that’s a good enough answer for me.”


	22. Family Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A simple question from Han means that an explanation is in order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the super long wait, everyone! There was some stuff going on that kept me from writing for a while. I explained my hiatus in the chapter notes on the latest update of my Hux POV fic "Whatever It Takes."

Anakin invited you to stay for dinner, along with Han and Chewie.  Chewie was told politely to remain outside of the kitchen while dinner was prepared and served, and he obeyed, choosing to curl up on a rug and take a nap.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Han asked after everyone was seated at the dining room table and eating, “how long have you and Mr. Skywalker been dating?”

You choked on a spoonful of the soup you were eating.  “Excuse me?”

“Where did you get an idea like that?” Anakin asked, looking just as mortified as you did.

“I saw you two kissing in the driveway the other day,” Han said with a shrug.  “Is it a secret or something?”

Luke and Leia were exchanging confused glances across the table, and you could see realization beginning to set in as Leia’s face began to light up.

“I knew it!” she shouted, bouncing in her seat.  “I knew it! I knew it! Daddy is in love with (Y/N)!  They’re going to get married and have babies and be together forever and ever because they’re in love!  I knew it the whole time!”

Anakin was looking from face to face, trying to think of something to say.  What was there to say, though?  Han had already laid it all out on the table.  It wasn’t a secret anymore.  After a moment, he fixed his eyes on you and said, “(Y/N), can I talk to you in my office for a minute?”

You nodded and followed him to the tiny workspace that had once been a closet and he shut the door behind him, anticipating in advance the eavesdropping children that were sure to trail close behind.  He offered you the chair and sat down on the edge of the desk.

“What now?” he asked incredulously.

“I don’t know,” you told him honestly.  “They were going to find out eventually.  You were only delaying the inevitable by keeping our relationship a secret.”

“I’m honestly surprised I was able to keep it from them this long.”

“Why, though?  Why all the secrecy?  What were we going to gain by keeping a secret?”

“It was just as much for your sake as it was for theirs,” he said with a sigh, spinning his wedding band like you had seen him do so many times in the past.  “You saw how Leia reacted.  How would it have felt to go on our first date with the knowledge that my children are one hundred percent positive that you and I are going to get married?  It puts this weird expectation on your shoulders, and I didn’t want you to have to deal with that.  I didn’t want to force you to think that far ahead because there was always that chance that things wouldn’t work out.

“And if things didn’t work out, what would that do to the kids?  As much as I hate to hang this weight on you, you’re really the most significant woman in either of their lives.  How would they deal with a breakup if they thought we were going to get married?  I thought that if I waited until things were really definite between us, it would make it easier for everyone to deal with all of this.”

“Is it really better for them now than if they had already known?” you asked.

“I think it is,” he confessed.  “Every day, I worry less about them finding out.  The thing is, when you’re in love, part of you wants the whole world to know.”

“What was that last part?” You gaped at him wide-eyed.  Had you heard that correctly?

His eyes widened to match your own.  “I guess I haven’t mentioned that yet.”

“No, you sure haven’t.  I think I would remember you saying you were in love with me.”

“Well, letting the cat out of the bag really seems to be the night’s theme.  I guess now’s as good a time as any to tell you – (Y/N) (L/N), I love you.”

“I think I’m in love with you too.”

“You think?” he asked, clearly a bit disenchanted with your answer. “You don’t have to say it back.  I know I’m quick to fall.”

“I can’t say that I’ve ever really been in love before,” you admitted.  “I’ve never felt anything like this before, though, and if this isn’t love, then I don’t know what is.”

“That’s a good enough answer for me,” he said, pulling you out of the chair and into his arms for a kiss.

You opened the door to the office to see three kids standing just outside, pretending that they hadn’t been trying to listen in.  Obviously, they hadn’t been able to hear anything that had been going on inside because you were sure Leia’s expression would have only become more ecstatic if she had overheard the conversation you had just had with her father.  With a short explanation given by Anakin to his children, everyone appeared to be satisfied and returned to the dining room table.

It was nice, sitting together like this.  It was almost like you were all one big happy family.  You and Han weren’t outsiders here.  You were both Skywalkers when you were here, well-loved members of the household, and that was a good feeling to have.


	23. There's Always Next Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Anakin do something you've been waiting a long time for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been forever since I've updated! Sorry about that.
> 
> IMPORTANT INFO: This chapter contains some smut, due to the overwhelming vote in favor of this story containing some. The beginning of the mature content is marked with "XXX" in bold underlined italics. It lasts from the signifying mark until the end of this chapter.

“You go first,” Anakin insisted, holding open the front door for you.  You obliged, stepping out of the cold into the comfortable heat of the Skywalker house.

“Hey, guys,” Ahsoka chirped in a cheery greeting, looking up from a bar exam study booklet.  “The kids are both asleep.  They were surprisingly good tonight.  How was your date?”

“It was great. Thanks for watching the kids, Snips,” he said, giving her an affectionate pat on the shoulder. 

You were never sure how you felt about the relationship between Anakin and his assistant.  You never that suspected anything flirtatious went on between the two of them.  In fact, he treated her like a daughter.  That was what made you uncomfortable.  Ahsoka was younger than you, but just barely.  It always left you to wonder if he thought of you in a similar way.

You knew it was a foolish thought.  If he thought of you as a child, he wouldn’t have made a point of telling you otherwise, and he certainly wouldn’t have ever asked you on a date.  Still, the thought crept into your mind far more often than you were comfortable with.

“Do you want to come upstairs?” Anakin asked when Ahsoka had left. 

“To say hi to the kids?” You screwed up your face in confusion.  “Ahsoka said they were already asleep.”

“Um, well… No that’s not what I had in mind.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.  “By ‘upstairs,’ I was actually thinking more along the lines of my bedroom.  Do you want to stay the night by any chance?”

“Oh.”

Oh, indeed.

“I bought condoms,” he informed you.

“ _Oh_.”

“You don’t have to.”

“No, I want to.  I just didn’t expect…”

“It doesn’t have to happen tonight,” he assured you.  “Just… It can, if you want it to.  I mean, I’d like for it to happen.”

“Alright.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Of course,” you told him with a smile.

“Okay,” Anakin grinned back.  That grin always got to you. “Alright.  Great.  That’s great.”  He nodded nervously.  “So… now?  Or…”

“Now sounds good to me.”

After you both hung your coats up on the hooks by the door, you found yourself following Anakin Skywalker up the stairs and into his bedroom.  As you stepped inside, you thought of the other times you had been in that room in the past.  First, there was the day you looked for the twins’ winter clothes. You had stumbled upon a box full of pictures Anakin had hidden away in an unsuccessful attempt to forget the sadness of the past.  Then, there was the time that you stayed the night during the snowstorm and Leia did your makeup in the bathroom.  She had told you that her father thought you were pretty.  Again, you had stood in the closet when you borrowed pajamas.  Most memorably, you recalled when he saw you in nothing but a towel.

Now, here you were again – alone together with Anakin.  The door was closed.  The tension in the air was palpable, and you were more than ready for whatever was going to come next.

 

**_ XXX _ **

**__ **

He kissed you hesitantly on the mouth.  An unspoken question lingered in his eyes as his fingers tugged at the hem of your shirt.  You nodded your consent, and he pulled it off over your head.  The next thing to come off was his shirt.  Clothing items were quickly discarded as the two of you made your way to the bed, sloppy kisses being exchanged all the while.

“You know, I’ve pretty much mastered the one-handed bra trick,” Anakin boasted after the two of you toppled onto the mattress, kicking his pants off in the process.  The two of you were left in nothing but your undergarments.  “I learned it out of pure necessity, but I think I still get bragging rights.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You shot him a challenging look.  “Then prove it.”

With a growl, he reached behind you and unhooked your bra in one fluid motion.   In response, you tugged down his underwear, and then your own.

“On or off?” he asked suddenly.

“Huh?”

He tapped his prosthetic with his other hand.  “Do you want this on or off?”

“Um… I don’t know.”

“I’d prefer to take it off, but if that weirds you out, I can leave it on.”

“You can take it off,” you told him.  “Whatever’s more comfortable for you is fine.”

He removed the prosthesis and set it carefully next to the bed.

“So, um… Do you want me to go down on you?” he asked rather awkwardly.  “I don’t really know what you like, so....”

“Yeah, if you’re okay with it, that would be good.”

While his approach to the question had been nervous and unsure, his execution was certainly not.  To say that Anakin Skywalker knew how to use his tongue was an understatement. 

“Mm!” you whimpered as he did his best to make you unravel. 

He pulled his mouth away and looked up at you.  “You’ve got to keep quiet, okay?  If we’re too loud, it’ll wake up the kids.  Then we’ll have to stop, and stopping is the last thing I want to do right now.”

“Got it.”

He resumed his duties with just as much diligence as before.  Anakin was drawing you closer and closer to the edge.  You could feel it.  It was like something inside of you was winding up and was waiting to spring to life.  One final lick was all it took, and you came undone.

“Ngh!” You had to turn your head and bite down on the pillow to muffle your cry of ecstasy. 

Your chest heaved as you recovered from your climax, and Anakin moved up the bed to be face to face with you.  The grin on his face told you just how pleased he was with his ability to make you fall apart.

“Are you going to climb on top of me and show me what other tricks you’ve learned?” you guessed, seeing the hungry look in his eyes. 

“Actually, it’s probably better if you’re the one on top,” he suggested.  “I can’t really maintain this whole one-armed pushup stance long enough to do much.  I’ll probably just end up falling on top of you.”

“Alright, thanks for the advice.”

He flipped onto his back, and you climbed on top of him, straddling his hips.  He pulled a foil packet out of the nightstand and ripped it open with his teeth.  You took the condom from him, and as you rolled it onto the length of him, it finally sunk in that this was really happening.  Slowly, you lowered yourself onto him and watched his eyelids flutter as you pushed all the way down.

You started out slowly after giving yourself a moment to adjust to the feeling of his size.  Gradually, you picked up the pace, rolling your hips and reveling in the way he filled you with every movement.  It was good.  It was _so good._   It took every ounce of willpower you had to keep from crying out in ecstasy. 

“(Y/N),” he moaned softly.

The sound of him saying your name encouraged you.  You rocked your hips faster.

“(Y/N),” he said again.

Every single motion was one of pleasure.

“(Y/N),” Anakin said for a third time, placing his hand on your cheek.

You finally realized he was trying to get your attention.

“(Y/N),” he panted, “you need to slow down or I’m going to…”

He wasn’t able to finish the thought, but he didn’t need to.  What was going to happen happened.  You felt his body tense and then relax under yours.  You kept grinding your hips against him, trying to push yourself towards the edge, but all too quickly, you could feel him softening inside you.

“I’m sorry,” Anakin said with embarrassment as you gave up and lay down beside him.

“It’s okay,” you assured him.  “You already made me come.”

“It’s just been awhile since I’ve…”

“I understand.”  You laid your head on his chest and he began to stroke your hair absentmindedly. “It’s fine.”

“It could have been better, though.”

“Yeah, but there’s always next time.”

“Hmm, next time…” he mused.  “I like the sound of that.”


	24. Safekeeping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have a very awkward encounter, and Anakin gives you a gift.

You woke up disoriented, not entirely sure where you were.  As you drifted out of your drowsy state, you became aware of an arm wrapped around your waist and a body pressed up against your back.  That was all it took to remind you where you had spent the night.

“Morning,” Anakin mumbled, awakened by your stirring.  He pulled you a little closer and kissed your cheek.

“Morning,” you answered back, unable to contain the smile that broke out across your face. 

“Did you sleep alright?”

“Definitely.  Your mattress is a thousand times more comfortable than mine.”

“I guess you’ll just have to sleep here more often,” he suggested.

“I might have to take you up on that offer.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“It’s freezing in here,” you grumbled.  It was the all-too-familiar situation of being in a warm bed on a cold day.  You nestled yourself further down in the blankets. 

The door swung open, and Leia barged in, closely followed by Luke. 

“I looked out the window and saw (Y/N)’s car,” Leia announced.

Anakin groggily let go of you and sat up.  You wrapped the blankets as securely around yourself as possible.

“Hi, (Y/N)!” Luke exclaimed, noticing you in bed.

“Hi, Luke.  Hi, Leia,” you mumbled sheepishly.

“Daddy, are you and (Y/N) married?” Luke asked.

Anakin looked at his son with shock.  “No, where did you get an idea like that?”

“When (Y/N) stayed here before she slept on the couch,” the boy explained.

Leia added, “You said that you and Mommy slept in the same bed because you were married.”

“(Y/N) and I aren’t married,” Anakin clarified.

Luke looked at him with obvious confusion.  “Did she sleep here?”

“Yes.”

“In your bed?”

“Yes, Luke, she did.”

“Then why did she have to sleep on the couch before?” Luke wanted to know.

Anakin looked at you for help, but you had nothing of value to contribute to the conversation.  You were too busy trying to keep yourself covered.  “It was a different situation,” he ended up saying.

“How?” Leia asked.

“It just was,” he said with exasperation.  “How about you two go downstairs, and I’ll be down there in just a minute.”

“And (Y/N) too?” Luke inquired.

“Yes, and (Y/N) too.”

The twins eyed you curiously, obviously not going to give up on the topic of conversation at hand, but they were apparently willing to put it off for a little while because they obediently headed out and down the stairs.

“Sorry about that,” Anakin apologized, leaning over and kissing you.

“It’s okay.”

“I should have locked the door.  I didn’t think about it.”

You watched him walk to the closet, a bit disappointed when he emerged fully dressed. 

“Are you checking me out?” he accused playfully, making his way to the bathroom.

“Maybe.”

“Hey, I want you to have this.” Anakin threw something at you from the bathroom door. 

You reached out and grabbed the projectile with one hand, holding on to the blankets with the other (less for modesty’s sake than to keep yourself warm).  You looked at the packaged object. “A toothbrush?”

“It’s yours.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

“Maybe you should leave it here, though,” he said with feigned apathy, “for safekeeping.”

You caught on to his meaning and nodded, playing along.  “You’re right.  You should probably keep an eye on it for me.”

“And then,” Anakin added, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking down at you, “you can stay here every once in a while and check on it.”

“For safekeeping?”

“Of course.  You wouldn’t want anything to happen to it, would you?”

“Of course not,” you agreed. “I’ll probably have to stay here again soon to make sure you’re doing a good job of watching my toothbrush for me.”

“I think that’s probably for the best.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! Don't forget to let me know what you think.


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